.'  •    -a.  .,*  *~ 


;*>? 


&# 


At 


* 


R-46205 


1793, 


■ran 


FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,  D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED    BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


Sectfej, 


i 


HORJE   LYRIC M. 

POEMS 

CHIEFLY    OF    THE    LYRIC    KIND. 

In   THREE   BOOKS. 

SACRED 

T.  To  Devotion  and  Piety. 

II.  To  Virtue,  Honour,  and  Friendship. 

III.  "To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead. 

Bt     I.     WATTS,    D.  D. 


Si  non  Uranie  Lyram 
Catlejlem  cobibii>  nee  Polyhymnia 
Humanism  refugit  tendere  Barbiton. 

Hor.  Od.  i.  imitat, 


PHILADELPHIA: 

Printed  st  R.  AIT  KEN  fc*  SON,  N°.  %%, 
Market  Street. 


M.DGC.XCIZ, 


THE 

PREFACE. 


IT  has  been  a  long;  complaint  of  the  virtuous  and 
refined  world,,  that  poefy,  whofe  original  is  di- 
vine, fhould  be  enilaved  to  vice  and  prophanenefs; 
that  an  art  infpiredfrom  heaven,  fhould  have  fo  far 
loft  the  memory  of  its  birth-place,  as  to  be  engaged 
in  the  interefts  of  hell.  How  unhappily  it  is  per- 
verted from  ksmoft  glorious  defign!  How  bafelyhas 
it  been  driven  away  frcm  its  proper  ftation  in  the 
temple  of  God,  and  abufed  to  much  difhonour!  The 
iniquity  of  men  has  conftrained  it  to  ferve  their 
vileft  purpofes,  while  the  fons  of  piety  mourn  the 
fa.c13Ie.ge  and  the  fhame. 

The  eldeft  fong  whkh  hiftory  has  brought  down 
to  our  ears,  was  a  noble  a<5t  of  worfhip  paid  to  the 
God  of  IJrael,  when  his  right  hand  became  glorious  i.i 
goiver;  ivhen  thy  right  hand,  0  Lord,  dafaed  in  pieces 
the  enemy;  the  chariots  o/Pharaoh  and  his  hojts  tuers 
eajt  into  the  Red-Sea  ;  tl»u  didji  bloxv  tviih  thy  luind.  ihs 
deep  covered  them,  and  they  fank  as  lead  in  the  mighty 
ivaters,  Exod.  xv.  This  art  was  maintained  facred 
through  the  following  ages  of  the  church,  and  em- 
ployed by  kings  and  prophets,  by  David,  Solomon 
and  Isaiah,  in  defcribing  the  nature  and  rhe  glories 
of  God,  and  in  conveying  grace  or  vengeance  to  the 
hearts  of  men,  By  this  method  they  brought  To 
much  of  heaven  down  to  this  lower  world,  as  the 
darkneis  of  that  dHpeniation  would  admit :  and  now 
and  then  a  divihs  and  poetic  rapture  lifted  their  fouls 
A  a  far 


Jv  The     PREFACE. 

far  above  the  level  of  that  ceconomyof  fhadows,  bore 
them  away  far  into  a  brighter  region,  and  gave  them 
a  glimpfe  of  evangelic  day.  The  life  of  angels  was 
harmonioufly  breathed  into  the  children  of  Adam, 
and  their  minds  raifed  near  to  heaven  in  melody  and 
devotion  at  once. 

In  the  younger  days  of  heathenifm  the  mufes  were 
devoted  to  the  fame  fervice  :  the  language  in  which 
old  Hesiod  addreffes  them  is  this: 
Pierian  mufes,  fain  d for  heavenly  /ays, 
Defend,   and  ftng  the  God  your  father  s  prarf. 
And  he  purfues  the  fubject  in  ten  pious  lines,  which 
I  could  not  forbear  to  tranferibe,  if  the   afpect  and 
found    of  fo  much  Creek  were  not  terrifying  to  a 
nice  reader. 

But  fome  of  the  latter  poets  of  the  Pagan  world 
have  debafed  this  divine  gift ;  and  many  of  the 
writers  of  the  firft  rank,  in  this  our  age  cf  national 
Chrifians  have  to  their  eternal  fhame,  furpaffed  the 
vileft  of  the  Gentiles.  They  have  not  only  difrobed 
religion  of  all  the  ornaments  of  verfe,  but  have  em- 
ployed their  pens  in  impious  mifchief  to  deform  her 
native  beauty  and  defile  her  honours.  They  have 
expofed  her  moft  facred  character  to  drollery,  and 
crefi'ed  her  up  in  a  moft  vile  and  ridiculous  diiguife, 
for  the  fcorn  of  the  ruder  herd  of  mankind.  The 
vices  have  been  painted  like  fo  many  goddeffes-,  the 
charms  of  wit  have  been  added  to  debauchery,  and 
the  temptation  heightened  where  nature  needs  the 
fbrongeft  reftraint.  With  fweetnefs  of  found,  and 
delicacy  of  expreffion,  they  have  given  a  relifh  to 
Llafphemies  of  the  harfheft  kind  ;  and  when  they 
rant  at  their  Maker  in  fonorous  numbers,  they  fancy 
themfelves  to  have  acted  the  hero  well. 

Thus 


r:i£     P    R    £    JF    A    C    E.  v 

Thus  almoit  in  vain  have  the  throne  and  the  pul- 
pit cried  reformation;  while  the  ftage  and  licentious 
poems  have  waged  open  war  with  the  pious  defign  of 
church  and  State.  The  prefs  has  fpread  the  poifon 
far,  and  fcattered  v/ide  the  mortal  infecaon  :  un- 
thinking youth  have  been  enticed  to  fin  beyond  the 
vicious  propenfities  of  nature,  plunged  early  into 
difeafes  and  death,  and  funk  down  to  damnation  in 
multitudes.  Was  it  for  this,  the  poefy  was  endued 
with  all  thofe  allurements  that  lead  the  mind  away 
in  a  pleafing  captivity  ?  Was  it  for  this  fhe  wasfur- 
nifhed  with  fo  many  intellectual  charms,  that  fhc 
might  feduce  the  heart  from  GOD  the  original 
beauty,  and  the  mcil  lovely  of  beings  ?  Can  I  ever 
be  perfuaded,  that  thofe  fweet  and  reliftlefs  forces  of 
metaphor,  wit,  found  and  number,  were  given  with 
this  defign  that  they  mould  he  all  ranged  under  the 
banner  of  the  great  malicious  fpnit,  to  invade  the 
rights  of  heaven,  and  to  bring  fwift  and  everlafiing 
deilrucfion  upon  men  ?  How  will  thefe  allies  of  the 
netherworld,  the  lewd  aneLthe  frophane  verfiiiers, 
{land  agh aft  before  the  great  Judge,  when  the  blood 
of  many  fouls  whom  they  nVver  law,  fhail  be  laid  to 
the  charge  of  their  writings,  and  be  dreadfully  re- 
quired at  their  hands  i  The  Reverend  Mr.  Collier 
has  fet  this  awful  fcene  before  them  in  juft  and 
flaming  coiours.  If  the  application  were  not  too 
rude  and  uncivil,  that  noble  flanza  of  my  Lord 
Roscommon,  en  Pfalm.  cslviii.  might  be  addreffed 
tothenL; 

21?  dragons  ivh of?  contagious  breath 
Peop'^ss4be  dark  retreats  of  death, 
Charige your  dire  bijfzr.gs  into  heavenly  fottvs, 
And pr  afe  yaur  Jlla/ier  -with  your  fried  tongues, 

A  3  Thw 


vi  The     PREFACE. 

This  profanation  and  oebafemcnt  of  fo  divine  an 
art,  has  tempted  fome  weaker  chriftians  to  imagine 
that  poetry  and  vice  are  naturally  akin  ;  or  at  leaft, 
that  verfe  is  fit  only  to  recommend  trifles,  and  en- 
tertain our  loofer  hours,  but  it  is  too  light  and  tri- 
vial a  method  to  treat  any  thing  that  is  ferious  and 
facred.  They  fubmit  indeed  to  ufe  it  in  divine  pfal- 
mody,  but  they  love  the  dried:  tranftation  of  thepi'alm 
heft.  They  will  venture  to  fing  a  dull  hymn  or  two 
at  church,  in  tunes  of  equal  duilnefs  ;  but  ftill  they 
perfuadethemfelves,and  their  children  that  the  beau- 
ties of  poefy  are  vain  and  dangerous.  All  that  arife* 
a  degree  above  Mr.  Sternhold  is  too  airy  for  wor- 
Ihip,  and  hardiy  efcapes  the  fentence  of  andean  and 
abominable.  'Tis  ftrange  that  perfons  that  have  the 
Bible  in  their  hands,  fhould  be  led  away  be  thought  - 
lefs  prejudices  to  fo  wild  and  rafh  an  opinion.  Let 
me  entreat  them  not  to  indulge  this  four,  this  cen- 
forious  humour  too  far,  left  the  facred  writers  fall 
under  the  lafh  of  their  unlimited  and  unguarded  re- 
proaches. Let  me  entreat  them  to  look  into  their 
Bibles,  and  remember  the  (tile  and  way  of  writing 
that  is  ufed  by  the  ancient  prophets.  Have  they 
forgot,  or  were  they  never  told,  that  many  parts  of 
the  Old  Teftament  were  Hebrew  verfe  ?  and  the  fi- 
gures are  ftrcnger,  and  the  metaphors  bolder,  and 
the  images  more  furprizing  and  ftrange  than  ever  I 
read  in  any  prophane  writer.  When  Deborah  fings 
her  praifes  to  the  GOD  of  Ifrael  while  he  marched 
from  the  field  of  Edam,  fhe  fets  the  earth  a  trembling, 
the  heavens  drop,  and  the  mountains  diffolvi  from  before 
tie  Lord.  They  fought  from  heaven,  the  far  s  in  their 
caurfes  fought  againft  Si  SERA  :  ivhen  the  river  of Kifhon 
fweft  them  away,  that  ancient  river,  the  river  Kifhou. 
0  7xj foul)  thou  haftrodsn  dnivr.frtrgth.  Judg.  v.  t*fe. 

Whea 


The     P    R   E    F    A    C   E.  *ii 

When  Elipkas,    in  the  book  of  Job,  fpeaks  his 
fenfe  of  the  holinefs  of  God,  he  introduces  a  ma- 
chine   in  a  vifion  :   Fe*r  came  upon   me,    tretisbltng  on 
all  my  bones,   the  hair  of 'my  f.efh.  food  up  ;   afpirit  faffed 
by   and  food  fill,  but  its  form    iijs   undifcet nible  ;    an 
image    before   mine  eyes;   and  flence  ;    Then  I    heard  a 
Kioice,  frying,  foall  mortal  man  he  more  jujl  than    God  ? 
\&c.  job.   iv.  When  he  describes  the  fafety  of  the 
righteous,   he  hides  him  from  -thejeourge  of  the  tongue, 
he    makes  him    laugh    at    dflruclion  and  famine,    he 
brings  the  flones    of  the  field    into  league  tilth  him,   and 
makes  the  brute  animals  enter  into  a  covenant  of  peace, 
fob.  v.  21.  Id'c.  When  job  fpeaks  of  the  grave,  how 
melancholy  is  the  gloom  that  he  fpreads  over  it !  It 
is  a  region  to  which  I  muft  fhortly  go,  and  ivhence  I 
fcall not  return;   it  is  a   land  of  datinrfs,  it  'is  darknefs 
itfdf,  the  land  of  the  ft  adoiv    of  death;   ail   confufion 
end  d'frder,  and  ivherethe  lights  as   darhr.ef^    This  is 
tny  houfe,   there  have  I  made  my  b?d :  I  have  faid  to  cor- 
ruption, thou  art  my  father,  and  to  the  luorm,  thou  art  my 
mother  and   my  ffet  :    as  for  my  hope,    ivko  foall  fee 
it  ?    I  and  my  hope  go  dotvn  together   to   the  bars  of  the 
pit,  Job  x.   ai.    and  xviii.  13.     When  he  humbles 
himfelf  in   complainings  before  the  almightinefs  of 
GOD,  what  contemptible  and  feeble  images  doth  he 
life!       Wilt  thou  break    a  leaf  driven  to  and  fro  ?   ivilt 
thou  purfue  the   dryfubbls  ?  I confume  atvay  like  a  rotten 
thing,  a  garment  eaten   by  the  moth,  Job  xiii.  25.  &c. 
Thou  Hftefl  me   up   to  the   ivind,  thou  caufef  me  to  ride 
upon  it.  and  dijfolvefl  my  fubfance,  Job  xxiii.  22.   Can 
any  man  invent  more  defpkable  ideas  to  reprefent 
the  fcoundrel  herd  and  refufe  of  mankind,  than  thofe 
which  Job  ufes  ?  chap.  xxx.  and  thereby  he  aggra- 
vates his  own  forrows  and  reproaches  to   amaze- 
ment .      Thty  t&af  ore  younger  than  I  bavt  ms  in  derifon, 

wbcfe 


jriii  The     PREFACE. 

tvbofe  fathers  I  would  have  difdainedto  have  fit  with  tie 
tlo<rs  of  my  foci;  for  want  and  famine  ihcy  we're folita- 
ry  ;  fleeing  into  the  wilder  nefs  deflate  and  wafe  :  they 
cut  up  mallows  by  the  bufbes,  and  juniper  roots  for  their 
tneui  :  toes  were  driven  forth  from  among  men,  (they 
eried  after  them  as  after  a  thief)  t  o  dwell  in  the  cliffs  of 
the  valleys,  in  caves  of  the  earth,  and  in  roch  :  among 
the  bufhes  they  bra  ed,  under  the  nettles  they  were  %m- 
tbered  together-,  they  were  children  of  focls,  yeax  chil- 
dren (f  bafe  men  ;  they  were  viler  than  the  earth':  and 
now  I  am  their  feng,  ye?.,  I  am  their  Lye-word,  &.C . 
How  mournful  and  defiled  is  the  language  of  hii 
own  forrows  !    terrors  are  turned  upon  him,  they  pur- 

fue  his  foul  as  the  wild,  and  his  welfare paffes  away 
as  a  cloud;    his  bones    are  pierced   within    him,   an,!  hit 

foid  is  poured  out;  he  goes  mourning  without  the  fun  t  a 
brother  to  dragons,  and  a  companion,  to  owls ;  while  hit 
harp  and  organ    are    turned    una    the  voice  of  tbepi  that 

weep  I  muft  thuifcrib'e  one  half  of  this  book,  if  I 
would  fhew  the  grandeur,  the  variety,  andthejuft- 
iiefs  of  his  ideas,  or  the  pomp  and  beauty  of  his  ex- 
,preflion:  I  mull  copy  out  a  gopd  part  of  the  writ- 
ings of  David  and  Ifaidh,  if  1  would  re  pre  lent  the 
poetical  excellencies  of  their  thoughts  and  itile  :  nor 
is  the  language  of  the  leiTer  prophets,  efpeciaily  in. 
Come  paragraphs,  math  inferior  to thefe. 

Now  while  they  paint  human  nature  in  its  various 
forms  and  circumftances,  if  their  defigning  be  fo  juffc 
and  noble,  their  difpofitibn  fo  artful,  and  their  co- 
louring fo  bright  beyond  the  moll  famed  human 
writers,  how  much  more  muft  their  deicriptions  of 
God  and  heaven  exceed  all  that  is  poffible  to  be  fuid 
by  a  meaner  tongue  ?  When  they  fpeak  of  the  dwel- 
ling-place of  God.  He  inhabits  eternity,  and  fit* 
upon  the  throne  of  hisholinefs,  in  tke  midft  of  light 

inacceffible. 


The     PREFACE.  Ix 

inacceSible.  When  his  holinefs  is  mentioned,  The 
heavens  are  not  clean  in  his  fight,  he  charges  his 
angels  with  folly  :  he  looks  to  the  moon  and  it  fhin- 
eth  not,  and  the  ftars  are  not  pure  before  his  eyes  : 
he  is  a  jealous  God,  and  a  confuming  fire.  If  we 
fpeakof  ftrcngth,  Behold  he  is  ftrong,  he  removes 
the  mountains,  and  they  know  it  not,  he  overturns 
them  in  his  anger:  he  fnakes  the  earth  from  her 
place,  and  her  pillars  tremble :  he  makes  a  path 
through  the  mighty  waters,  he  discovers  the  foun- 
dations of  the  world  :  the  pillars  of  heaven  are  afto- 
nifhed  at  his  reproof.  And  after  all,  Thefe  are  but 
a  portion  of  his  ways:  the  thunder  of  his  power 
who  can  underftand?  His  fovereignty,  his  know- 
ledge and  his  wifdom  are  revealed  to  us  in  language 
"vaftly  fuperior  to  all  the  poetical  accounts  of  heathen 
divinity.  Let  the  potfherds  ft  rive  with  the  potfherd6 
of  the  earth;  but  (hall  the  clay  fay  to  him  that  fa- 
fnioneth  it,  what  makeft  thou  ?  He  bids  the  hea- 
vens drop  clown  from  above,  and  let  the  ikies  pour 
down  righteoufnefs.  He  commands  the  fun,  and  it 
rifeth  not,  and  he  fealeth  up  the  ftars.  It  is  he  that 
faith  to  the  deep,  be  dry,  and  he  drieth  up  the  ri- 
vers. Woe  to  them  that  leek  deep  to  hide  their 
counfel  from  the  Lord;  his  eyes  are  upon  all  their 
ways,  he  underftands  their  thoughts  afar  off.  Hell 
is  naked  btfore  him,  and  deftruclion  hath  no  cover- 
ing. He  calls  out  all  the  ftars  by  their  names,  lie 
fruftrateth  the  tokens  of  the  liars,  and  makes  the 
diviners  mad;  he  turns  wife  men  backward,  and 
their  knowledge  becomes  foolifb.  His  tranfeendant 
eminence  above  all  things  is  moft  nobly  reprefented 
when  he  fits  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth,  and  the 
inhabitants  thereof  are  as  grafhoppers:  all  nations 
before  him  are  as  the  drop  of  a  bucket,  and  as  the 
(mall  dull  of  the  balance  :  he  takes  up  the  ifles  as  a 

very 


t  The     P    R    E    F    A    C    E. 

very  little  *hing;  Labanon  with  all  her  hearts,  is  not 
fufhcient  for  a  facrifice  to  this  God,  nor  are  all  her 
trees  fufficient  for  the  burning .  This  God  before  i&bom 
the  whole  creation  is  as  nothing,  yea,  lefs  than  no- 
thing and  vanity  To  which  of  all  the  heathen  gods 
then  will  ye  compare  me,  faith  the  Lord,  and  what 
fhall  I  be  likened  to?  And  to  which  of  ail  the  hea- 
then poets  (hall  we  liken  or  compare  this  glorious 
orator,  this  facred  defcriber  of  the  godhead?  The 
orators  of  all  nations  are  as  nothing  before  him,  and 
their  words  arc  vanity'and  emptinefs.  let  us  turn: 
our  eyes  now  to  fome  of  the  holy  writings,  where 
God  is  creating  the  world  :  how  meanly  do  the  beft 
of  the  Gentiles  calk  and  trifle' upon  this  fubjecl:,  when 
brought  into  comparifen  with  Jll<fs,  whom  Lon~ 
giuus  himfelf,  a  Gentile  critic,  cites  as  a  matter  of 
theiublime  ftile,  when  he  chofe  to  ufe  it;  And  the 
Lord  laid,  Let  there  be  light,  and  there  was  light ; 
let  there  be  clouds  and  feas,  fun  and  ftars,  plants 
and  animals,  and  beheld  they  are:  he  commanded, 
and  they  appear  and  obey:  By  the  word  of  the  Lord 
were  the  heavens  made,  and  all  the  hoil  of  them  by 
the  breath  of  his  mouth:  this  is  working  like  a 
GOD,  with  infinite  eafe  and  omnipotence^.  Kis 
wonders  of  providence  for  the  terror  and  ruin  of  his 
adversaries-,  and  for  the  fucccur  of  his  faints,  is  fet 
before  our  eyes  in  the  fcriprure  with  equal  magnifi- 
cence, and  as  becomes  divinity.  When  he  arifes  out 
of  his  place,  the  earth  trembles,  the  foundations  of 
the  hills  are  fhaken  becauie  he  is  wroth:  there  goes 
a  fnioak  up  out  of  his  noflrils,  and  fire  out  of  his 
mouth  devoureth,  coals  are  kindled  by  it.  He  bows 
the  heavens  and  comes  down,  and  crarknefs  is  under 
his  feet.  The  mountains  melt  like  wax,  and  flow 
down   at  his  pretence.  If  Virgil^  Humcr>  §r  Pin- 

da* 


Tut     PREFACE,  si 

Kzr  "Tere  to  prepare  an  equipage  for  a  defcending 
god,  they  might  ufe  thunder  and  lightnings  too,  and 
clouds  and  fire,  to  form  a  chariot  andhorfes  for  the 
battle  or  the  triumph.  But  there  is  none  of  them 
provides  him  a  flight  of  cherubs  initead  of  horfes,  or 
feats  him  in  chariots  offalvation,  David  beholds  him 
riding  upon  the  heaven  of  heavens,  by  his  name 
J  AH  :  he  was  mounted  upon  a  cherub  and  did  fly, 
he  flew  on  wings  of  the  wind;  andHABBAKuK  fends 
the  peftilence  before  him.  Homer  keeps  a  mighty 
ftir  with  his  Nephelegerefa  Zous,  and  Hefiod  with 
his  Zous  hupjibremete.  'Jupiter  that  raifes  up  the 
clouds,  and  that  makes  a  noife  or  thunders  on  high. 
But  a  divine  poet  makes  the  clouds  but  the  duft  of 
his  feet,  and  when  the  Higheft  gives  his  voice  in  the 
heavens,  hailftones  and  coals  of  fire  follow.  A  di- 
vine pott  difcovers  the  channels  of  the  waters,  and 
lays  open  the  foundations  of  nature  ;  at  thy  rebuke, 
O  Lord  at  the  blaft  of  the  breath  of  thy  noftrils, 
When  the  HOLT  ONE  alighted  upon  mount  Sinai,  his 
glory  covered  the  heavene :  he  flood  and  meafured 
the  earth;  he  beheld  and  drove  afunder  the  nation?, 
end  the  everlafting  mountains  were  fcattered ;  the 
perpetual  hills  did  bow ;  his  ways  are  everlafting. 
Then  the  prophet  faw  the  tents  of  Cufoan  ill  affliction, 
aad  the  curtains  of  the  land  of  Midian  did  tremble, 
Hab.  iii.  Nor  did  the  bleffed  fpirit  which  animated 
thefc  writers j  forbid  them  the  ufe  of  viCons,  dreams, 
the  opening  of  fcenes  dreadful  and  delightful,  and 
the  introdudtltci  of  machines  upon  great  occafions  : 
the  divine  licence  in  this  refped,  is  admirable  and 
furprifmg,  and  the  im.^es  are  often  too  bold  and 
dangerous  for  an  uninfpired  writer  to  imitate.  Mr. 
Dennis  has  made  a  noble  eiTay  to  difcover  how 
aauch  fuperier  isinfpired  pcefy  to  the  brightefl  and 

beft 


xii  The     P    R    E    F    A    C    E. 

bcft  defcriptions  of  a  mortal  pen.  Perhaps  if  his 
propofal  of  crit'uif.n  had  been  encouraged  and  pur- 
sued, the  nation  might  have  learnt  more  value  for 
the  word  of  GOO,  and  the  wits  of  the  age  might 
have  been  fecured  from  the  danger  ot  deifm ;  while 
they  muft  have  been  forced  to  confefs  at  leaft  the 
divinity  of  all  the  poetical  books  of  fcripture,  when 
they  fee  a  genius  running  through  them  more  than 
human. 

Who  is  there  now  will  dare  to  affert,  that  the  doc- 
trines of  our  holy  faith  will  not  indulge  or  endure  a. 
delightful  drefs  ?  lhall  the  *  French  poet  affright  us 
by  faying: 

De  lafoy  <Vun  chretien  les  myfkret  terribles 
£)'  ornemens  egayez  ne  font  point  fufceptibles  t 
But  the  f  French  critick,  in  his  reflections  upon 
eloquence,  tells  us,  "  that  the  majefty  of  our  reJi- 
*'  gion  the  holinefs  of  its  laws,  the  purity  of  its 
"  morals  the  height  of  its  myfteries,  and  the  im- 
(i  portance  of  every  fubject.  that  belongs  to  it,  re- 
"  quires  a  grandeur,  a  noblenefs,  a  majefty,  and 
"  elevation  of  ftile  fuited  to  the  theme:  fparkling 
"  images  and  magnificent  exprefiions  muft  be  ufed, 
"  and  are  beft  borrowed  from  fcripture  :  let  the 
"  preacher  that  aims  at  eloquence,  read  the  pro- 
"  phets  inceffantly,  for  their  writings  are  an  abun- 
"  dant  fource  of  all  the  riches  and  ornaments  of 
11  fpeech."  And  in  my  opinion,  this  is  far  better 
cc  counfelthan  Horace  gives  us,  when  he  fays, 
■  '  Vos  exemplar  in  Grata 

NoSiurna  verfate  manut  'uerfate  diurnal 
As  in  the  conduct  of  my  ftudies  with  regard  to  di- 
vinity, I  have  rcafjn  to  repent  of  nothing  more  than 
that  I  have  not  perufed  the  Bible  with  more  fre- 
quency; 
*  BoHtiu         |  Rap'm 


The     PREFACE,  xiii 

quency ;  fo  if  I  were  to  fet  up  for  a  poet,  with  a  de- 
fign  to  exceed  all  the  modern  writers,  I  would  fol- 
low the  advice  of  Rapiu,  and  read  the  prophets 
night  and  day:  T  am  fure  the  compofures  of  the 
following  book  would  have  been  filled  with  much 
greater  fenfe,  and  appeared  with  much  more  agreea- 
ble ornaments,  had  I  derived  a  larger  portion  from 
the  holy  fcriptures. 

Befides,  we  may  fetch  a  further  anfwer  to  Mr. 
Boileaus  objection,  from  other  poets  of  his  own 
country.  What  a  noble  ufe  have  Racine  and  Cor- 
he'dle  made  of  chriftian  fubjeets  in  fome  of  their 
belt  tragedies  ?  what  a  variety  of  divine  feenes  are 
difplayed,  and  pious  paffions  awakened  in  thofe 
poems?  the  martyrdom  of  Folyeucle,  how  doth 
it  reign  over  our  love  and  pity,  and  at  the  fame  time 
animate  our  zeal  and  devotion !  may  I  here  be  per- 
mitted the  liberty  to  return  my  thanks  to  that  fair 
-and  ingenious  hand  *  that  directed  me  to  fuch  en- 
tertainments in  a  foreign  language,  which  1  had  long 
wifhed  for,  and  fought  in  vain  in  cur  own.  Yet  I 
mult  confefs,  that  the  Davideis  and  the  two  Ar- 
thurs have  fo  far  anfwered  Boileaus  objection  in 
Englifi,  as  that  the  obftacles  of  attempting  chri- 
ftian poefy  are  broken  down,  and  the  vain  pretence  of 
its  being  impracticable  is  experimentally  confutedf . 

It  is  true  indeed,  the  chriftian  myfleries  have  not 

fuch  need  of  gay  trappings  as  beautified,   or  rather 

B  compoled 

*  Philomela, 
f  Sir  Richard  Blackmore,  in  his  admirable  preface 
io  his  lajl  poem  entitled ',  Alfred,  has  more  copioufiy  re- 
fitted  all  Boileau's  arguments  on  thisfubjecl^  and  thai 
ivith  great  jujlice  and  elegance ,  1 7  23.  /  am  perfuaded 
that  many  perfons  ivbo  defpife  the  poem  %V9uld  acknow- 
ledgethe  juji fentiments  of  thai  preface. 


xiv  Tue     PREFACE.- 

compofed  the  heathen  fuperflition.  Eut  this  flill 
makes  for  the  greater  eafe  and  furer  faccefs  of  the 
poet.  The  wonders  of  our  religion  in  a  plain  nar- 
ration and  a  fimple  drefs,  have  a  native  grandeur,  a 
dignity,  and  a  beauty  in  them,  though  they  do  not 
utterly  difdain  all  methods  of  ornament.  The  book 
of  the  Revelations  feems  to  be  a  prophecy  in  the  form 
of  an  opera  or  a  dramatic  poem,  where  divine  art  il~ 
luftrates  the  fubject  with  many  charming  glories.; 
but  full  it  muft  be  acknowledged,  that  the  naked 
themes  of  chriftianity  have  fomething  brighter  and 
bolder  in  them,  fomething  more  furprifing  and  ce- 
leftial  than  all  the  adventures  of  Gods  anc:  heroes, 
all  the  dazling  images  of  falfe  Iuftre  that  form  and 
garnifh  a  heathen  fong  :  here  the  very  argument 
would  give  wonderful  aids  to  the  mufe,  and  the 
heavenly  theme  would  fo  relieve  a  dull  hour,  and  a 
languishing  genius,  that  when  the  mufe  nods,  the 
fenfe  would  burn  and  fparkle  upon  the  reader,  and 
keep  him  feelingly  awake. 

With  how  much  lefs  toil  and  expence  might  a 

Dry  Jen  •  an  Ottvay,  a  Congrcve,  or  a  Dennis 
furnifh  cut  a  chriftian  poem,  than  a  modern  play  ? 
there  is  nothing  amongft  all  the  ancient  fables,  or 
later  romances,  that  have  two  fuck  extremes  united 
in  them,  as  the  eternal  GOD  becoming  an  infant 
of  days;  the  poffeffor  of  the  palace  of  heaven,  laid 
to  fleep  in  a  manger,  the  Holy  JESUS,  who  knew 
no  fin,  beiiing  the  fins  of  men  in  his  body  on  the 
tree;  agonies  of  forrow  loading  the  foul  of  him 
who  was  GOD  over  all  blefftd  for  ever ;  and  the  fo- 
vereigH  of  life  ftretching  his  arms  on  a  crofs,  bleed- 
ing and  expiring  .  the  heaven  and  the  hell  in  our 
divinity  are  infinitely  mere  delightful  and  dreadful 
than  the  childifh  figments  of  a  dog  with  three  heads, 
the  buckets  of  the  £elidcst    the  furies  with  fnaky 

hairs, 


i        The     P    R    E    F    A    C    E.  Sv 

hairs,  or  all  the  flowry  flories  of  Elyfium.  And  if 
we  furvey  the  one  as  themes  divinely  true,  and  the 
other  as  a  medley  of  fooleries  which  we  can  never 
believe,  the  advantage  for  touching  the  fprings  of 
paflion  will  fall  infinitely  on  the  fide  of  the  chrifiian 
poet;  our  wonder  and  our  love,  our  pity,  delight, 
and  forrow,  with  the  long  train  of  hopes  and  fears, 
muft  needs  be  under  the  command  of  an  harmoni- 
ous pen,  whofe  every  line  makes  a  part  of  the  read- 
er's faith,  and  is  the  very  life  or  death  of  his  foul 
If  the  trifling  and  incredible  tales  that  furnifh  out 
a  tragedy,  are  fo  armed  by  wit  and  fancy,  as  to  be- 
come fovereign  of  the  rational  powers,  to  triumph 
over  all  the  affections,  and  manage  our  fmiles  and 
our  tears  at  pleafure:  how  wondrous  a  conqueft, 
might  be  obtained  over  a  wide  world,  and  reduce  it 
at  Jeafl  to  fobriety,  if  the  fame  happy  talent  was 
employed  in  dreffing  the  fcenes  of  religion  in  their 
proper  figures  of  majefty,  i'weetnefs  and  terror?  the 
wonders  of  creating  power,  of  redeeming  love,  and 
renewing  grace  ought  not  to  be  thus  impioufly  ne- 
glected by  thofe  whom  heaven  has  endued  with  a 
gift  fo  proper  to  adorn  and  cultivate  them;  an  art 
whofe  fweet  infinuations  might  almofl  convey  piety 
in  refitting  nature,  and  melt  the  hardefl  fouls  to  the 
love  of  virtue.  The  affairs  of  this  life,  with  then: 
reference  to  a  life  to  come,  would  fhiue  bright  in  a 
dramatic  defcription;  nor  is  their  any  need  or  any 
reafon  why  we  fhould  always  borrow  the  plan  or 
hiflory  from  the  ancient  Jstvs  or  primitive  martyrs; 
though  feveral  of  thefe  would  furnifh  out  noble  ma- 
terials for  this  fort  of  poefy :  but  modern  fcenes 
would  be  better  underftood  by  moil  readers,  and  the 
application  would  be  much  more  eafy.  The  anguifh 
of  inward  guilt,  the  fecret  flings  and  racks  and 
fcourges  of  confeience,  the  fweet  retiring  hours,  and 
B  %  feraphical 


xvi  The     P    R    E    F    A    C    E. 

feraphical  joys  of  devotion,  the  victory  of  a  refolved 
foul  over  a  thoufand  temptations;  the  inimitable 
love  and  paffion  of  a  dying  GOD,  the  awful  glories 
of  the  laft  tribunal,  the  grand  decifive  fentence  from 
which  there  is  no  appeal,  and  the  confequent  trans- 
ports or  horrors  of  the  two  eternal  worlds,  thefe 
things  may  be  varioufly  difpofed,  and  form  many 
poems.  How  might  fuch  performances,  under  a 
divine  bleffing,  call  back  the  dying  piety  of  the  na. 
lion  to  life  and  beauty?  this  would  make  religion 
r.ppear  like  itfelf  and  confound  the  blafphemies  of  a 
profligate  world,  ignorant  of  pious  pleaiures. 

But  we  have  reafon  to  fear,  that  the  tuneful  men 
of  cur  day,  have  not  raifed  their  ambition  to  fo  di- 
vine a  pitch;  I  fhould  rejoice  to  fee  more  of  this  ce- 
leftial  fire  kindling  within  them,  for  the  flafhesthat 
break  out  in  fome  prefent  and  paft  wricings,  betray 
an  infernal  fource.  This  the  incomparable  Mr. 
Cowley,  in  the  latter  end  of  his  preface,  and  the 
ingenious  Sir  Richard  Blackmore,  in  the  begining 
cf  his,  have  fo  pathetically  defcribed  and  lamen- 
ted; that  I  rather  refer  the  reader  to  mourn  with 
them,  than  detain  and  tire  him  here.  Thefe  gen- 
tlemen, in  their  large  and  laboured  works  of  poefy, 
have  given  the  world  happy  exemples  of  what  they 
•vvifh  and  entourage  in  profe;  the  one  in  a  rich  va- 
riety of  thought  and  fancy;  the  other  in  all  the 
ihining  colours  of  profufe  and  florid  diclion. 

If  fnorter  fonnets  were  compofed  on  fublime  fub- 
jeets,  fuch  as  the  Pfalms  of  David,  and  the  holy 
tranfports  interfperfed  in  the  other  facred  writings, 
or  fuch  as  the  moral  Odes  of  Horace,  and  the  an- 
cient Lyricis;  1  peifuade  myfelf  that  the  Cbrifiian 
preacher  would  find  abundant  aid  from  the  poet,  in 
his  defign  to  ciffufe  virtue,  and  allure  fouls  to  God. 

If 


The     P    R    E    F    A    C    E.  xva 

If  the  heart  were  firft  inflamed  from  heaven,  and 
the  mufe  were  not  left  alone  to  form  the  devotion, 
and  purine  a  cold  ftent,  but  only  called  in  as  an 
affiftant  to  the  worihip,  then  the  fong  would  end 
where  the  inspiration  ceafes;  the  whole  compefure 
would  be  of  a  piece,  ail  meridian  light  and  meridian 
fervour;  and  the  fame  pious  flame  would  be  propa- 
gated end  kept  gloving  in  the  heart  of  him  that 
reads.  Some  of  the  fhorter  odes  of  the  two  poets 
now  mentioned,  and  a  few  of  the  Reverend  Mr. 
IJorris's  Effays  in  verfe,  are  convincing  inif  ances  of 
the  fuccefs  of  this  prcpofal. 

It  is  my  opinion  alfo,  that  the  free  and  unconfined 
numbers  of  Pindar,  or  the  noble  meafures  of  Mil- 
ic?i  without  rhyme,  would  befl  maintain  the  dig- 
nity of  the  theme,  as  well  as  give  a  loofe  to  the  de- 
vout foul,  nor  check  the  raptures  of  her  faith  and 
love.  Though  in  my  feeble  attempts  of  this  kind  I 
have  too  often  fettered  my  thoughts  in  the  narrow 
metre  of  our  pfalm-tranflators ;  I  have  contracted 
and  cramped  the  fenfe,  or  rendered  it  obfeure  and 
feeble,  by  the  too  fpeedy  and  regular  returns  of 
rhyme. 

If  my  friends  expecT:  any  reafon  of  the  following 
compofures,  and  of  the  firft  or  fecond  publication, 
I  entreat  them  to  accept  of  this  account. 

The  title  affures  them  that  poefy  is  not  the  buil- 
nefs  of  my  life ;  and  if  I  feized  thofe hours  of  leifure 
wherein  my  foul  was  in  a  more  fprightly  frame,  to 
entertain  them  or  myfelf  with  a  divine  or  moral 
fong,  I  hope  I  fhall  find  an  eafy  pardon. 

In  thefrfl  book  are  many  odes  which  were  written 

to  affift  the  meditations  and  wcrfhip  of  vulgar  chrif- 

tians,  and  with  a   defign  to  be  publifhed  in  the  vo- 

time  of  Hymns  which  have  now  paifed  a  fecond  im- 

B  3  preflion; 


xvlii  The     1>    R    E    F    A    C    E. 

preffion ;  but  upon  the  review,  I  found  fomc  ex- 
preffions  that  were  not  fuite,d  to  the  plained  capa- 
city, and  the  metaphors  ari  too  bold  to  pleafe  the 
weaker  chriitian,  therefore  I  have  allotted  them  a 
place  here. 

Amongft  the  fongs  that  are  dedicated  to  dl-vlneluv: 
1  think  T  may  be  bold  to  affert,  that  I  never  com- 
pofed  one  line  of  them  with  any  other  defign,  than 
what  they  are  applied  to  here;  and  I  have  endea- 
voured to  fecure  them  all  from  being  perverted  and 
debafed  to  v/anton  paffions,  by  feveral  lines  in  them 
that  can  never  be  applied  to  a  meaner  love.  Are 
not  the  nobleft  inftatices  of  the  grace  of  Chriit  re- 
prefented  under  the  figure  of  a  conjugal  ftate,  and 
defcribed  in  one  of  the  fweetcft  odesj  and  the  fofteft 
paftoral  that  ever  was  written;  I  appeal  to  Sole 
mon*  in  his  feng,  and  his  father  David,  in  Pfal. 
xU\  if David  was  the  author:  and  I  am  well  af- 
fured  that  I  have  never  indulged  an  equal  licence: 
it  was  dangerous  to  imitate  the  facred  writers  too 
nearly  in  fo  nice  an  affair. 

The  Poems  fured  to  Virtue,  &c.  were  formed  when 
the  frame  and  humour  of  my  foul  was  juft  fuited  to 
thefubjedr.  of  my  verfe  :  the  image  of  my  heart  is 
painted  in  them;  and  if  they  meet  with  a  reader, 
whofe  foul  is  akin  to  mine,  perhaps  they  may  agree- 
ably entertain  him.  The  dulnefs  of  the  fancy,  and 
coarfenefs  of  expreffion  will  difappear ;  the  famenefs 
of  the  humour  will  create  a  pleafure,  and  infenfibly 
overcome  £nd  conceal  the  defects  of  the  mufe. 
Young   gentlemen   and  ladies,  whofe   genius  and 

education 

*  Solomon's  Song  ivas  much  more  in  ufe  among 
freaibers  and -writers  of  divinity  when  thrfe  i~ocms  were 
written  than  it  if  jicw.  I7JO. 


The     P    R    E    F   A    C    E.  xix 

cducation  have  given  them  a  relifh  of  oratory  and 
verfe,  may  he  tempted  to  feek  fatisfaetion    amono- 
the   dangerous  diverfions  of  the  ftage,  and  impure 
fonnets,  if  there  be  no   provifion  of  a    iafer  hind 
made  to  pieafe  them.     While  I  have  attempted  to 
gratify  innocent  fancy  in  this  refpedt,  1  have  net 
forgotten  to  allure  the  heart  to  virtue,  and  to  raife 
it  to  a  difdain  of  brutal  pleafures.     The  frequent 
interpofition  of  a  devout  thought   may  awaken  the 
mind  to  a  ferious  fenfe  of  GOD,  religion,  and  eter- 
nity.    The  fame  duty   that  might  be  defpifed  in  a 
fermon,  when  propefed  to  their  rcafon,  may  here 
perhaps  feize  the  lower  faculties  with  furprife,  de- 
light and  devotion   at   once  ;   and  thus  by  degrees 
draw  the  fuperior  powers  of  the  mind  to  piety.    A- 
mongft  the  infinite  numbers  of  mankind,  there  is 
not  more  difference  in  their  outward  fhape  and  fea- 
tures, than  in  their  temper  and  inward  inclination. 
Some  are  more  eafily  fufceptive  of  religion  in  a  grave 
difcourfe   and  fedate   reafoning.       Some   are  bed 
frighted  from  fin   and  ruin  by  terror,  threatening 
and  amazement ;  their  fear  is  the  properefr  paffien 
to  which  we  can  addrefs  ourfelves,  and  begin  the 
divine  work :  others  can  feel  no  motive  fo  powerful 
as  that  which  applies  itfelf  to  their  ingenuity,  and 
their  polifhed  imagination.     Now  I  thought  it  law- 
ful to  take  hold  of  any  handle  of  the  foul,  to  lead  it 
away  betimes  from  vicious-pleafures;  and  if  I  could 
but  make  up  a  compofition  of  virtue   and  delight, 
fuited  to  the  tafte  of  well-bred  youth,  and  a  refined 
education,  I  had  fome  hope  to  allure  and  raife  them 
thereby  above  the  vile  temptations  of  degenerate 
nature,  and  enftdra,  that  is  yet  more  degenerate. 
When  I  have  felt  a  flight  inclination  to  fatyr  or  bur- 
kfmie,    I  thought  it  proper  to  fupprefs  it.     The 

grining 


sx  The     P    R    E    F    A    C    E; 

grining  and  the  growling  mufe  are  not  hard  to  be 
obtained;  but  I  would  difdain  their  affiftance,  where 
a  manly  invitation  to  virtues  and  a  friendly  frnile 
may  be  fuccefsfuhy  en. ployed.  C'nu'.d  I  pctfuace 
any  man  by  a  kinder  method,  I  fhould  never  think 
it  proper  to  fcold  or  laugh  at  him. 

Perhaps  there  are  fome  hlOFofe  readers,  that  ftand 
ready  to  condemn  every  line  that's  written  upon  the 
theme  of  lowe%  but  have  we  not  the  cares  and  the 
felicities  of  that  fort  of  focial  life  reprefented  to  us 
in  the  facred  writings?  Some  expreiilons  are  there 
tifed  with  a  def.gn  to  give  a  mortifying  influence  to 
our  fofteft  affections;  others  again  brighten  the  eha« 
racier  of  that  ftate,  and  allure  virtuous  fouls  to  pur- 
fue  the  divine  advantage  of  it,  the  mutual  afiii  ar  e 
in  the  way  to  falvation:  Are  not  the  exxvii  and 
exxviiii pfalms  indited  on  this  vtry  iubjeel  ?  Shall  it 
be  lawful  for  the  prefs  and  the  pulpit  tc  trear  of  it 
with  a  becoming  fclemnity  in  profe,  ^nd  ifcufi  the 
mention  of  the  fame  thing  in  poefy  be  pronounced 
forever  unlawful?  It  is  utterly  unworthy  of  a  ieri- 
ous  character  to  write  on  this  argument,  becaufe  it 
has  been  unhappily  polluted  by  fome  fcurrilouspens  ? 
Why  may  I  not  be  permitted  to  obviate  a  common 
and  a  growing  roifchief  while  athoufand  vile  poems 
of  the  amourouskind  fwarm  abroad,  and  give  a  vici- 
ous taint  to  the  unwary  reader  ?  I  would  tell  the 
World  that  I  have  endeavoured  to  recover  this  argu- 
ment out  of  the  hands  of  impure  writers,  and  to 
make  it  appear,  that  virtue  and  love  are  not  fuch 
ftrangers  as  they  are  reprefented.  The  blifsful  inti- 
macy of  fouls  in  that  ftate  will  afford  fufficient  fur- 
niture for  the  graveft  entertainmant  in  verfe ;  ro 
that  it  need  not  be  everlaftingly  dreffed  up  in  ridi- 
cule, nor  affumed  only  to  furnifh  cut  the  lewd  fon- 


Tus     P    R    E    F    A    C    E.  xxi 

Siets  of  the  times.  May  fome  happier  genius  pro- 
mote the  fame  fervice  that  I  propofed,  and  by  fupe- 
riorfenfe,  and  fweeter  found,  render  what  I  have 
■Written  contemptible  and  ufelefs. 

The  Imitations  cf  that  nobleft  Lathi  poet  of  modern 
ages,  Cajjlmtre  Sarbieiifki  of  Poland,  would  need 
lio  excufe,  did  they  but  arife  to  the  beauty  of  the 
original.  I  have  often  taken  the  freedom  to  add  ten 
or  twenty  lines,  or  to  leave  out  as  many,  that  I 
might  fuit  my  fong  more  to  my  own  defign,  cr  be- 
eaufe  I  faw  it  impoffible  to  prefenc  the  force,  the 
finenefs  and  the  fire  of  his  expreffion  in  cur  language. 
There  are  a  few  copies  wherein  I  borrowed  fome  hints 
from  the  fame  author,  without  the  mention  of  his 
name  in  the  title.  Methinks  I  can  allow  fo  fuperi- 
or  a  genius  now  and  then  to  be  la  villi  in  his  imagina- 
tion, and  to  indulge  fome  excurfions  beyond  the 
limits  of  fedate  judgment :  The  riches  and  glory  of 
his  verfe  make  attonement  in  abundance.  I  wifli 
fome  EtigUJb  pen  would  import  more  of  his  trea- 
fures,  and  blefs  our  nation. 

The  infer -iptions  to  particular  friends,  are  warrant- 
ed and  defended  by  the  practice  of  almoft  all  the 
Z^-zV  writers.  They  frequently  convey  the  rigid 
rules  of  morality  to  the  mind  in  the  fofter  method 
of  applaufe.  Sufcained  by  their  example,  a  man 
will  not  eafriy  be  overwhelmed  by  the  heavieft  cen- 
fures  cf  the  unthinking  and  unknowing ;  efpecially 
when  there  is  a  fliadow  of  this  practice  in  the  divine 
ffalmf,  while  he  inferibes  to  Afapb  or  jeduihnn 
hisfongs,  that  were  made  for  the  harp,  or  (which 
is  all" one)  his  Lyric  odes,  though  they  are  addreiied 
to  GOD  himfelf. 

Jn  the  poems  of  heroic  meafire,  I  have  attempted  in 
rhimc  the   fame  variety   of   cadence,  comma  and 

period. 


[Xii  Thb     PREFACE. 

period,  which  blank  verfe  glories  in  as  its  peculiar* 
elegance  and  ornament.  It  degrades  the  excellency 
of  the  beft  verification  when  the  lines  run  on  by- 
couplets,  twenty  together,  juft  in  the  fame  pace, 
and  with  the  fame  paufes.  It  fpoils  the  nobleft 
pleafure  of  the  found  :  the  reader  is  tired  with  the 
tedious  uniformity,  or  charmed  to  fleep  with  the 
unmanly  foftnefs  of  the  numbers,  and  the  perpe- 
tual chime  of  even  cadences. 

In  the  ejfays  without  rhix:e,   I  have  not  fet  up  Mil- 
ton for  a  perfect  pattern  ;  though  he  fhall  be  forever 
honoured  as  our  deliverer  from  the  bondage.     His 
works  contain  admirable  and  unequalled  inftances  of 
bright  and  beautiful  diction,  as  well  as  majefty  and 
ferenenefs  of  thought.     There  are  feveral  epifodes 
in  his  longer  works,  that  ftand  in  fupreme  dignity 
without  a  rival ;  yet  all  that   vaft  reverence   with 
which  1   read  his  paraJ.ife  loft,  cannot   perfuade  me 
to  be  charmed  with  every  page  of  it.     The  length  of 
his  periods,  and  fometimes  of  his  parenthefes,  runs 
me  out  of  breath  :  feme  of  his  numbers  feem  too 
harfh  and  uneafy.     I  could  never  believe  that  rcugh- 
jiefs  and  obfeurity  added  any  thing  to  the  true  gran- 
deur of  a  poem  :   nor  will  I  ever  affect  archaifms, 
exoticifms,  and  a  quaint  uncouthnefs  of  ipeech,  in 
order  to  become  perfectly  Miltonian.    'Tis  my  opini- 
on that  blank  verfe  may  be  written  with  all  due  ele- 
vation of  thought  in  a  modern  ftile,  without  bor- 
rowing any  thing  from   Chaucer  s  tales,  or  running 
back  io  far  as    the   days  of  Coi'm  the  Jbepberd,  and 
the  reign  of  the  Fairy  Queen.     The  oddnefs  of  an 
antique  found  gives  but  a  falfe  pleafure  to  the   ear, 
and  abuftsthe  true  relifh,    even  when  it  works  de- 
light.    There  were  fome  fuch  judges  of  poefy  among 
tclie  ©!d  RomaiiS)   and  Martial  ingeniously  laughs 

at 


The     PREFACE.  »& 

.at  one  of  them,  that  was  pleafed  even  to  aftonifh- 
ment  with  obiblete  words  and  figures. 

Attonitsfque  Ugis  terraifrugiferai. 

So  the  ill-drawn  poftures  and  diftortions  of  fhape 
that  we  meet  with  in  Chir.efe  pictures,  charm  a  fick- 
ly  fancy  by  their  very  awkwardnefs ;  fo  a  diftem- 
pered  appetite  will  chew  coals  and  fand  and  pro- 
nounce it  guftful. 

In  the  pindarks  I  have  generally  conformed  my 
lines  to  the  fhorter  fize  cf  the  ancients,  and  avoided 
to  imitate  the  exceffive  lengths  to  which  fome  mo- 
dern writers  have  ftretched  their  fentences,  and  es- 
pecially the  concluding  verfe.  In  thefe  the  ear  is 
the  trueft  judge  ;  nor  was  it  made  to  be  enllaved  to 
any  precife  model  of  elder  or  later  times. 

After  all,  I  muft  petition  my  reader  to  lay  afide 
the  four  and  fullen  air  of  criticifm,  and  to  affume 
the  friend.  Let  him  chufe  fuch  copies  to  read  at 
particular  ho-irs,  when  the  temper  of  his  mind  is 
fuited  to  the  fong.  Let  him  come  with  a  defire  to 
be  entertained  and  pleafed,  rather  than  to  feek  his 
own  difguftand  averfion,  which  will  not  be  hard  to 
find.  I  am  not  fo  vain  as  to  think  there  are  no 
faults,  nor  fo  blind  as  to  efpy  none  :  though  I  hope 
the  multitude  of  alterations  in  this  fecond  edition 
are  not  without  amendment.  There  is  fo  large  a 
difference  between  this  and  the  former,  in  the 
change  of  titles,  lines,  and  whole  poems,  as  well  as 
in  the  various  tranfpofitions,  that  it  would  be  ufelefs 
and  endlefs,  and  all  confufion,  for  any  reader  to 
compare  them  throughout.  The  additions  alfo 
make  up  almoft  half  the  book,  and  fome  of  thefe 
have  need  of  as  many  alterations  as  the  former. 
Many  a  line  needs  the  file  to  polifh  the  roughnefs 
of  it,  and  many  a  thought  wants  richer  language  to 
adorn  and  make  it  fbine,     Wide  defects  and  equal 

fuperfluitiss 


xxiv  The     PREFACE. 

fuperfluities  may  be  found,  efpecially  in  the  larger 
pieces  ;  but  I  have  at  prefent  neither  inclination  ncr 
leifure  to  correct,  and  1  hope  I  never  fhall.  It  is 
©ne  of  the  big-gelt  fatisfactions  I  take  in  giving  this 
.volume  to  the  world,  that  I  expect  to  be  for  ever 
free  from  the  temptation  of  making  or  mending  po- 
ems again*.  So  that  my  friends  may  be  perfectly 
fecure  againft  this  impreffion's  growing  wafte  upon 
their  hands,  and  ufelcfs  as  the  former  has  done. 
Let  minds  that  are  better  furniihed  for  fuch  per- 
formances purfue  thefe  ftudies,  if  they  are  convinced 
that  poefy  can  be  made  ferviceable  to  religion  and 
virtue.  As  for  myfelf,  I  almoft  blufh  to  think  that 
I  have  read  fo  little,  and  written  fo  much.  The 
following  years  of  my  life  fhall  be  more  entirely  de- 
voted to  the  immediate  and  direct  labours  of  my 
flation,  excepting  thofe  hours  that  may  be  employed 
in  finilhing  my  imitation  of  the  P faints  of  David, 
in  chriftian  language,  which  I  have  now  promifed 
the  worldf. 

I  cannot  court  the  world  to  purchafe  this  book  for 
their  pleafure  or  entertainment,  by  telling  them 
that  any  one  copy  entirely  pleafes  me.  The  beft  of 
them  finks  below  the  idea  which  I  form  of  a  divine 
or  moral  ode.  He  that  deals  in  the  myfteries  of 
heaven,  or  of  the  mufes,  mould  be  a  genius  of  no 
vulgar  mould  :  and  as  the  name  of  Vates  belongs  to 
both  ;  fo  the  furniture  of  both  is  comprifed  in  that 
line  of  Horace. 

"      Cui 

*  Naturam  expellas  furca  licet,  ufque  recurret. 
JJcr.  Will  thisfhort  note  of  Horace  excufe  a  man  ivhn 
has  reffled  nature  many  years  but  has  been  fometimes 
•vercome?    1 736.      Edition  the  7th. 

f  In  the  year  JJiythefe  were  fnifktd and printed. 


The     PREFACE.  kky 

Cut  mens  diviniory  atque  as 
Ibfagna  fonaturum. 
But  what  Juvenal  fpake  in  his  age,  abides  true 
in  ours  :  a  complete  poet  or  a  prophet  is  fuch  a  one  ; 
—  G)ualem  nequeo  monjlrare,  fcT '  fentio  tantum. 
Perhaps  neither  of  thefe  characters  in  perfection 
fhall  ever  be  feen  on  earth,  till  the  feventh  angel 
has  founded  his   awful  trumpet ;  till  the  victory  be 
complete  over  the  beaft  and  his  image,  when  the 
natives  of  heaven  fhall  join  in  confort  with  prophets 
and  faints,  and  fing  to  their  golden  harps,  falvation, 
honour  and  glory  to  bim  that  fits  upon  tbe  throne,  end  U 
tht  Lamb  for  ever. 

May  14,  1709, 


ON 


On    Pleading 

Mr.     WATTS's     Poems. 

Sacred  to  Fiety  and  Devotion. 

x\  E  GARD    the  man  ivlo  in  fr.^L'c  lay* 

Andfoiving  fn.m'trsjh:gs  his  Ivltiii-r  V pr  if-: 

He  needs  invoke  no  failed  mufe 's  art ■, 

Toe  heavenly  fang  comes  genuine  from  Lis  he.uf, 

F;c7iz  thai  pure  heart  ivhich  God  has  deign 'd  /'  inftirt 

h  ith  holy  rapt i.  res  and  a  f acred f  re. 

Thrice  happy  man  vobofe  foul  and gviltlefs  breoli 

Are  ivell p-repard to  lodge  th'  almighty guf.  ! 

'Tis  he  that  lends  thy  touring  thoughts  their  iving% 

And  tunes  thy  lyre   tvhe.i  thou  attempt  f  to  flng  : 

He   to  thy  foul  lets  in  celefial  day, 

JSv'n  ivhilfi  impr'fond  in  this  mortal  clay  ; 

2?%'  death's  grim  afpecl  then  art  not  alarm'd, 

He  for  thy  fake  has  death  itfelf  difarm 'd '; 

JYorfball  the  grave  o'er  thee  a  victory  boafl ; 

Her  triumph  in  thy   rifingfhall  be  loft, 

When  thottfhalt  jcin  tb*  angelic  choirs  above 

In  never  ending  fngs  of  frtift  and  love, 

EUSEBIA. 


TO 


1  To     Mb.     W  A  TTS, 

On  his  Divine   Posms. 

O  A  T,  human  feraph,   tvhence  that  charming  for rtt 
That  flams  !   that foul  !   -which  animates  each  line  s 
And  hozv  it  runs  -with  fach  a  graceful  eafe, 
Loaded  taith  pond'rousjlife  .'    Say,  did  not   Hs 
The  'cve'v  ]^-!=vsi   ivho  commands  t-hy  breaf, 
hfpire  thee  tvifb  himfelf?   With  Jesus  dwells. 
Knit  in  myfterious  bands,   the  Paraclete, 
The  breath  of  God,  the  everlaf.ing  fourcs 
Cf  love  :    and  what  is  less  in  fouls  like  thine t 
But  air,  and  incenfe  to  the  poefsfre  ? 
Should  an  expiring  faint  nxchnfe  f&tmmlng  eyes 
Ii£i,-!<rle   the  images  ef  things  about  him, 
But  hear  the  leaf  exalted  cf  thy  Brains , 
Hozv  vreedily  he'd  drink  the  mufick  in, 
Thinking  his  heavenly  convoy  toaitediiear  / 
So  great  afref  f  powerful   harming  % 
NaitTe  unable  longer  to  f fain, 
Would fnk  epprf  d  zviih  joy  to  endlefs  Tef, 

Lei  none  henceforth  of  Providence  complain, 
As  if  the  'world  offpirits  lay  unknozvn, 
Fencd  round  iviih  black  impenetrable  nioh;  • 
What  tho'  no  fining  angel  darts  from  thence 
Wiih  leave  iopubljh  things  conceal' 'd from  fife , 
In  language  bright  as  theirs,  ive  are  here  told, 
When  life  its  narrczu  roun-i  cf  years  hath  roll' J, 
What  'tis  employs  the  blfs'd,  -what  makes  iheir  blif  \ 
Songs  fucb  as  vVATl 's  are,  and  love  liiehis. 

But  then,  dcarfr,  be  factious  hozv  you  yfs 
To  tranfporisf  intenfely  rais'd your  m.f, 
Lef,   ivhilf  ib'  ecfatic  impulfe  you  obey,. 
The  foul  leap  out,  and  drob  the  duller  clavi, 

Sept.  4,  1706.  Hsxry.-  Grove. 

G  i,  TO 


To    THE    REVrR£NI> 

Br.     WATTS, 

O  N     H  I  S 

DIVINE    P  O  E  M  S. 


C^.3%  foiling  mufe,   what  heavnly  fir  ah 
^"*     Forbids  the  waves  to  roar  ; 

Comes geri'y-gliding  o'er  the  main, 
And  charms  our  lijV/iingfhoie! 

J*/ I  at  angel f  riles  the  trembling  firings  $ 

And  whence  the  golden  found  / 
Oris  /V  Watts— or  Gabriel  fins* 

From  y  on  celeflia  I  ground  t 

'Tis  thou,  feraphie  Watts;   thy  lyre 

Plays  foft  along  the  foods  ; 
Thy  notes,  the  arfw' ring  bills  infpire, 

And  bend  the  waving  woods. 

The  meads,   with  dying  mific  fWd, 

Their fmiling  honours  fhotv, 
Whih,   wbifperivg  o'er  each  fragrant field r, 

The  tuneful  breezes  bloiv. 

The  rapture  founds  in  ev  ry  trace, 

Ev 'n  the  rough  rocks  regale. 
Frejl  flow' 'ry  joys  fame  o er  the  fate 

Of ev' ' ry  laughing  vale. 

And  thou,   my  foul,  the  tratfport  own, 

Fir  'd  with  immortal  heat  ; 
Whilft  dancing pu/fes  driving  on, 

About  thy  body  beat. 


(     29     ) 

Long  as  the  fun  fhall  rear  his  bead. 
And  chafe  the  flyitig  glooms, 

As  blujbing  fro, n  his  nuptial  lei 
The  valiant  bridegroom  domes  : 


Long  as  the  dufiy  evningfies 

Ant Jheds  a  doubtful  light, 
IVhilefdden  rufh  along  tbefkies 
.      The  fable fhades  of 'night: 

0  Watts,  thy  facred  lays  fo  Jong 

Shall evry  bofomfre  ; 
And  ei> 'ry  mvje;   and  ev'ry  tongue, 

Tofpeak  thy  prafe,   confpire. 

When  thy  fair  foul fhall  on  the  ivings 

Of fooutingferaphs  rife, 
And  iviih  fiperior  ftveetnefs  fings 

Amid  thy  native  fkies  ; 

Still fhall  thy  lofty  numbers fow, 

JMelo  lions  and  divine  ; 
And  choirs  above,  and  faints  beloiv3 

A  deathlfs  chorus  !  join. 

To  our  far  foores  the  foundfhall  toll, 

(So  Philomela/v^y 
And  eaf  to  iveft,   and  pole  to  pole 

Tb'  eternal  tune  prolong. 

Neiv-  England, 
Soflon^  March  ic,  1 725, 


M.  Btlss, 


mRJE 


HORJE   LYRICJE. 


BOOK       I. 

Sacred  to  Devotion  and  Pietv. 


Worshipping    with     Feak 

I. 

WHO  dares  attempt  th'  eternal  name 
With  notes  of  mortal  found? 
Dangers  and  glories  guard  the  theme, 
And  fpread  defpair  around. 
II. 
Deftruction  waits  t'obey  his  frown, 

And  heaven  attends  his  fmile  ; 
A  wreath  of  lightning  arms  his  crowa, 
But  love  adorns  it  ftill. 

III. 
Celeftial  king,  our  fpirits  lie, 

Trembling  beneach  thy  feet, 
And  wifh,  and  caft  a  longing  eyet 
To  reach  thy  lofty  feat. 
IV. 
When  fhall  we  fee  the  great  unknown, 

And  in  thy  prefenr e  ftand  ? 
Reveal  the  fplendors  of  thy  throne, 
But  feield  us  with  thy  hand. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  31 

V. 

In  thee  what  endlefs  wonders  meet ! 

What  various  glory  fhines ! 
The  crofting  rays  too  fiercely  beat 

Upon  our  fainting  minds. 
VI. 
Angels  are  loft  in  fweet  furprize 

If  thou  unvail  thy  grace  ; 
And  humble  awe  runs  thro'  the  ikies. 

When  wrath  arrays  thy  face. 
VII. 
When  mercy  joins  with  majefty 

To  fpread  their  beams  abroad, 
Not  ali  their  faireft  minds  on  high 

Are  lhadows  of  a  God. 

VTII. 
Thy  works  the  ftrongeft  feraph  lings 

In  a  too  feeble  ftrain, 
And  labours  hard  on  all  his  firing* 

To  reach  thy  thoughts  in  vain. 
IX. 
Created  powers,  how  weak  they  be ! 

How  fhorc  our  praifes  fall! 
So  much  akin  to  nothing  we, 

And  thou  th'  eternal  all. 


Asking    Leave     to    Sing. 

I. 

YE  T,  mighty  God  indulge  my  tongue, 
Nor  let  thy  thunders  roar, 
Whilft  the  young  notes  and  vent'rou6  fong 
To  Worlds  of  glory  foar, 

II. 


32       LYRIC     POEMS,       Book  I, 
I!. 

If  thou  my  daring  flight  forbid 

The  mafc  folds  up  her  wings  : 
Or  at  thy  word  her  iknder  reed 

Attempts  almighty  things. 
III. 
Her  (lender  reed  infpir'd  by  thee 

Bids  a  new  EJ.n  grow, 
With  b looming  life  on  every  tree, 

And  fpreads  a  heav'n  below. 
IV. 
She  mocks  the  trumpets  loud  alarms 

Fili'd  with  chy  dreadful  breath  ; 
And  calls  the  angelic  noftd  to  arms, 

To  give  the  nations  death. 
V. 
Eut  when  me  taftesher  Saviour's  love, 

And  feels  the  raptures  flrong, 
Scarce  the  divinelt  harp  above 

Aims  at  a  fweeter  long. 


Divine     Judgments. 

NO  T  from  the  duil  my  forrows  fpring, 
Nor  drop  my  comforts  from  the  lower  fkies  ; 
Let  ad  the  baneful  planets  fhed 
Their  mingled  curfes  on  my  head, 
How  vain  their  curfes,  if  th'  eternal  king 
Look  thro'  the  clouds  and  blefs  me  with  his  eyes. 
Creatures  with  all  their  boafted  fway 
Are  but  his  flaves,  and  muft  obey  ; 
They  wait  their  orders  from  above, 
And  execute  his  word,  the  vengeance,  cr  the  love. 

II. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  33 

ir. 

'Tis  by  a  warrant  from  his  hand 

The  gentler  gales  are  bound  to  ileep  : 
The  north  wind  blufters,  and  afiumes  command 

Over  the  defert  and  the  deep  ; 

Old  Boreas  with  his  freezing  pow'rs 
Turns  the  earth  iron,  makes  the  ocean  glafs, 
Arrefts  the  dancing  riv'lets  as  they  pafs, 

And  chains  them  movelefs  to  their  fhores  ; 
The  grazing  ox  lows  to  the  gelid  Ikies, 
Waits  o'er  the  marble  meads  with  withering  eyes, 
Walks  o'er  the  folid  lakes,  muffs  up  the  wind  and  dies, 
III. 

Fly  to  the  polar  world,  my  fong, 
And  mourn  the  pilgrims  there,  (a  wretched  throng  !) 

Seiz'd  and  bound  in  rigid  chains, 

A  troop  of  ftatues  on  the  Ruffian  plains, 
And  life  ftands  frozen  in  the  purple  veins. 

Atheift,  forbear  ;  no  more  blafpheme  ; 
God  has  a  thoufand. terrors  in  his  name, 

A  thoufand  armies  at  command, 

Waiting  the  fignal  of  his  hand, 
And  magazines  of  ffoft,  and  magazines  of  flame, 

Drefs  thee  in  fteel  to  meet  his  wrath  ; 

His  fharp  artillery  from  the  north 
Shall  pierce  thee  to  the  foul,  and  fliake  thy  mortal 
frame. 

Subiime  on  winter's  rugged  wings 

He  rides  in  arms  along  the  Iky, 
And  fcatters  fate  on  iwains  and  kings ; 

And  flocks  and  herds,  and  nations  die  ; 

While  impious  lips,  profanely  bold, 
Grow  pale  ;  and,  quivering  at  his  dreadful  cold, 

Give  their  own  blafphemies  the  lie. 


IV. 


34       LYRIC     POEMS.      Bock  I. 

IV 
The  mifchicfs  that  mftft  the  earth, 
When  the  hot  dog-ilar  fires  the  realms  on  high, 

Drought  and  difeafe,  and  cruel  death, 
Are  but  the  flafnes  of  a  wrathful  eye, 
From  the  incens'd  divinity. 
In  vajan  our  parching  palates  thirfk. 
For  vital  food  in  vain  we  cry, 

And  pant  for  vital  breath  ; 
The  verdant  fields  are  burnt  to  dufb, 
The  fun  has  drunk  the  channels  dry, 

And  all  the  air  is  death. 
Ye  fecurges  of  our  maker's  rod, 
'Tis  at  his  dread  command,  at  his  imperial  nod 
You  deal  your  various  plagues  abroad. 

V. 
Hail,  whirlwinds,  hurricanes  and  floods 
That  all  the  leafy  ftandards  firip, , 
And  bear  down  with  a  mighty  fvveep 
The  riches  of  the  fields,  and  honours  of  the  woods  ;• 
ftorms,  that  ravage  o'er  the  deep 
And  bury  millions  in  the  waves; 

Earthquakes,  that  in  mid-night  flecp 
Turn  cities  into  heaps,  and  make  our  beds  our  graves  : 

While  you  difpenfe  your  mortal  harms, 
'Tis  the  Creator's  voice  that  founds  your  loud  alarms, 
When  guilt  with  louder  cries  provokes  a  Gun  to  arms- 
VI. 
O  for  a  meffagefrom  above 
To  bear  my  fpirits  up  ! 
Some  pledge  of  my  Creator's  love 
To  calm  my  terrors  and  fupport  my  hope  ! 


Let 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c,  33 

Let  waves  and  thunders  mix  and  roar, 
Be  thou  my  God,  and  the  whole  world  is  mine  : 
V7hile  thou  art  ibv 'reign,  I'm  fecure ; 
I  Dial!  be  rich  till  thou  art  poor  ; 
Tor  ali  I   fear,  and  all  I  with,  heav'n,  earth  and 
hell  are  thine. 


Earth    and    Heaven. 
I. 

J'JJ  AST  thou  not  ften,  impatient  boy  ? 
.  .1.      Hair  thou  not  read  the  folemn  truth, 
7  hat  grey  experience  writes  for  giddy  youth 
On  every  mortal  joy  ? 
Fleafure  mi>Ji  be  dajb'd  ivitb  pain  : 
And  yet  with  heedlefs  hafte, 
The  thirfty  boy  repeats  the  tafte, 
"Nor  hearkens  to  defpair.  but  tries  the  bowl  again. 
The  rills  of  pleafure  never  run  fincere  ; 
.  (Earth  has  no  unpolluted  fpring) 
From  the  curs'd  foil  fome  dang'rous  taint  they  bear  j 
So  rofes  grow  on  thorns,  and  honey  wears  a  fbing. 

II. 
In  vain  we  feek  a  heaven  below  the  fky ; 

The  world  has-falfe,  but  fiatt'ring  charms; 
Its  diftant  joys  fhow  big  in  our  efteem, 
But  leffen  full  as  they  draw  near  the  eye  ; 
In  our  embrace  the  vifions  die, 
And  when  we  grafp  the  airy  forms 
We  lofe  the  pieafing  dream. 
HI. 
Earth,  with  her  fcenes  of  gay  delight, 
Is  but  a  landikip  rudely  drawn, 
With  glaring  colours,  and  falfe  light ; 

Diftance 


36     LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  I. 

Diftance  commends  it  to  the  fight, 

For  fools  to  gaze  upon  ; 
But  bring  the  naufeous  daubing  nigh, 
Coarfe  and  confuf  d  the  hideous  figure  lie, 
Diffolve  the  pleafure,  and  offend  the  eye. 

IV. 
Look  up,  my  foul,  pant  tow'rd  th'  eternal  hills ; 

Thofe  heav'ns  are  fairer  than  they  feem  ; 
There  pleafures  all  fincere  glide  on  in  cryftal  rills, 
There  not  a  dreg  of  guilt  defiles, 
Nor  grief  difturbs  the  ftream. 
That  Canaan  knows  no  noxious  thing, 
No  curfed  foil,  no  tainted  fpring, 
Nor  rofes  grow  on  t  horns,  n  or  honey  wears  a  fting 


Felicity    Above. 
I. 

NO,  'tis  in  vain  to  feek  for  blifs; 
For  blifs  can  ne'er  be  found 
'Till  we  arrive  where  Jesus  is, 
And  tread  on  heav'nly  ground. 
II. 
There's  nothing  round  thefe  painted  fkie», 

Or  round  his  dufty  clod; 
Nothing,  my  foul,  that's  worth  thy  joys, 
Or  lovely  as  thy  God. 

iir. 

'Tis  heav'n  on  earth  to  tafte  his  love, 

To  feel  his  quick'ning  grace; 
And  all  the  heav'n  I  hope  above 

Is  but  to  fee  his  face, 

IV. 
Why  move  my  years  in  flow  delay? 

O  God  of  ages  ?  why  ? 
Let  the  fpheres  cleave,  and  mark  my  WIJ 

To  the  fuperior  fey; 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  37 

if. 

Dear  Sov'reign,  break  thefe  vital  firings 

That  bind  me  to  nay  clay  ; 
Take    me,   Ukiel,  on  thy  wings, 

And  ftretch  and  foar  away. 


GOD's  Dominion  and  Decrees, 

7. 

KEEP  filence,  all  created  things, 
And  wait  your  Maker's  nod  : 
The  mufe  ftands  trembling  while  flie  lings 
The  honours  of  her  Gorj. 
II. 
Life,  death,  and  hell,  and  worlds  unknown 
Hang  on  his  firm  decree  : 
He  fits  on  no  precarious  throne, 
Nor  borrows  leave  to  be: 
III. 
Th'  almighty  voice  bid  ancient  night 

Her  endlefs  realms  refign, 
And  lo,  ten  thoufand  globes  of  light 
In  fields  of  azure  fhine. 
IV. 
Now  wifdom  with  fuperior  fway 
Guides  the  vaft  moving  frame, 
V/hilft  all  the  ranks  of  being  pay, 
Deep  rev'rence  to  his  name. 
V. 
He  fpake ;  the  fun  obedient  flood. 

And  held  the  falling  day  ; 
Old  Jordan  backward  drives  his  flood, 
And  difappoints  the  fea. 
D 


38        LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  I. 

VI. 

Lord  of  the  armies  of  the  Iky, 

He  marfhals  all  the  ftars ; 
Red  comets  lift  their  banners  high, 
And  wide  proclaim  his  wars, 
VII. 
Chain'd  to  his  throne  s  volume  lies, 

With  all  the  fates  of  men, 
With  every  angel's  fonrfand  fize 
Drawn  by  th'  eternal  pen. 
VIII. 
His  providence  unfolds  the  book, 
And  makes  his  counfels  fhine  : 
Each  opening  leaf,  and  every  ftrokej 
Fulfils  fome  deep  defign. 
IX. 
Here  he  exalts  neglected  worms 

To  fcepters  and  a  crown  ; 
Anon  the  following  page  he  turns, 
i      And  treads  the  monarch  down. 
X. 
Not  Gabriel  a  Acs  the  reafon  why, 

Nor  God  the  reafon  gives  : 
Nor  dares  the  favourite  angel  pry 
Between  the  folded  leaves. 
XI. 
My  Gon,  I  never  long'd  to  fee 
My  fate  with  curious  eyes, 
[  What  gloomy  lines  are  writ  for  me, 
"~  Or  what  bright  fcenes  fhall  rife. 

XII. 
In  thy  fair  book  of  life  and  grace 

May  I  but  find  my  name, 
Recorded  in  fome  humble  place 
Beneath  my  Lord  the  Lams. 

Seli 


Sacred  to  Devotion^  &c.  39 

Self-Consecration. 

I. 

IT  grieves  me,  Lord,  it  grieves  me  fore, 
That  I  have  liv'd  to  thee  no  mere, 
And  wafted  half  my  days  ; 
My  inward  pow'rs  fhall  burn  and  flame 
With  zeal  and  paffion  for  thy  name, 
I  would  not  fpeak,  but  for  my  God,  nor  move,  but 
to  his  praife. 

II. 
What  are  my  eyes  but  aids  to  fee 
The  glories  of  the  Deity 

Infcrih'd  with  beams  of  light 
On  flow'rs  and  ftars  ?  Lord,  I  behold 
The  mining  azure,  green  and  gold  ; 
Bu  t  when  I  try  to  read  thy  name,  a  dimnefs  veils 
my  fight. 

III. 
Mine  ears  are  rais'd  when  Virgil  lings 
Sicilian  fwains,  or  Trojan  kings, 
And  drink  the  mufic  in  : 
Why  fhould  the  trumpet's  brazen  voice, 

Or  oaten  reed  awake  my  joyg, 
And  yet  my  heart  fot  ftupid  lie  when  facred  hymn* 
begin  ? 

IV. 
Change  me,  O  God;  myflefh  fhall  be 
An  inftrument  of  fong  to  thee, 
And  thou  the  notes  infpire  : 
My  tongue  fhall  keep  the  heav'nly  chime, 
My  chearful  pulfe  fhall  beat  the  time, 
And  fweet  variety  of  found  fhall  in  thy  praife  confpire  > 

V. 
The  deareft  nerve  about  my  heart, 
Should  it  refufc  to  bear  a  part, 

D  a  From 


4o         1  YR  J  C   POEM  S,     Book  I. 

With  my  melodious  breath, 
I'd  tear  away  the  vital  cord, 
A  bloody  vi&im  to  my  Lord, 
And  live  without  that  impious  firing,  or  fhew  my 
zeal  in.  death. 


The  Creator,  and  Creatures. 

I. 

GO  D  is  a  nsme  my  foul  adores, 
Th'  Almighty  Three,   th'  Eternal  one; 
Nature  and  grace  with  all  their  pow'rs, 
Confefs  the  Infinite  Unknown. 

If. 
From  thy  Great  Self  thy  being  firings;. 
Thou  art  thy  own  original, 
Made  up  of  uncreated  things, 
And  felf-fufficience  bears  them  all. 

III. 
Thy  voice  produe'd  the  feas  and  fpheresj,. 
Bid  the  waves  roar,  and  planets  fhine  ;. 
But  nothing  like  thyfelf  appears, 
Thro'  all  thefe  fnacious  works  of  thine. 

Still  reftlefs  nature  dies  and  grows  ; 
Xrom  change  to  change  the  creatures  run  ; 
Thy  being  no  fucceffion  knows, 
And  all  thy  vaft  defigns  are  one  ; 

V. 
A  glance  of  thine  runs  thro' the  globes, 
Rules  the  bright  worlds,  and  moves  their  frame  : 
33 road  meets  of  light  compofe  thy  robes  ; 
Thy  guards  are  form'd  of  living  flame. 

VI. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  41 

VI. 

Thf  ones  and  dominions  round  thee  fall, 
And  worfhip  in  fubmiffive  forms; 
Thy  prefence  fhakes  this  lower  ball, 
This  little  dwelling-place  of  worms. 

VII. 
How  fhall  affrighted  mortals  dare 
To  fing  thy  glory  or  thy  grace, 
Beneath  thy  feet  we  lie  fo  far, 
And  fee  but  fhadows  of  thy  face  ? 

VIII. 
Who  can  behold  the  blazing  light  ? 
Who  can  approach  confuming  flame  ? 
None  but  thy  wifdom  knows  thy  might  ; 
None  but  thy  word  can  fpeak  thy  name; 


The  Nativity  of  Christ. 
r. 

•  QHEPHERDS,  rejoice,  lift  up  your  eye», 

O  "  And  fend  your  fears  away  : 
8t  News  from  the  region  of  the  Ikies, 
"  Salvation's  born  to  day. 
II. 
"  JESUS,  the  God  whom  angels  fear, 

"  Comes  down  to  dwell  with  you  ; 
"  To-day  he  makes  his  entrance  here, 
"  But  not  as  monarchs  do. 
III. 
**  No  gold,  nor  purple  fwadling  bands, 

"  Nor  royal  fhining  things  ; 
A*  A  manger  fwr  his  cradle  ftands, 
tl  And  holds  the  King  of  kings, 

-D  3  IV. 


42      LYRIC    PO'E  M  S,      Jftook  I 

IV. 
"  Go,  fhepherds,  where  the  infant  lies, 

*'  And  fee  his  humble  throne  ; 
*'  With  tears  of  joy  in  all  your  eyes, 

"  Go,  fnepherds,  kifs  the  Son." 
V. 
Thus  Gabriel  fang,  and  ftrait  around 

The  heavenly  armies  throng, 
They  tune  their  harps  to  lofty  found, 

And  thus  conclude  the  fong  : 
VI. 
*'  Glory  to  God  that  reigns  above, 

"  Let  peace  furround  the  earth: 
c«  Mortals  fha!l  know  their  Maker's  lov?, 

"  At  their  Redeemer's  birth." 
VII. 
1.0 rd  !  and  mall  angels  have  their  fong?. 

And  men  no  tunes  to  raife  ? 
O  may  we  lofe  thefe  ufekfs  tongues 

When  they  forget  to  praife  ! 

vui. 

Glory  to  God  that  reigns  above, 

That  pitied  us  forlorn, 
We  join  to  fing  our  Maker's  rove, 

For  there's  a  Saviour  born. 


God  Glorious,  and  Sinners  savei> 

I. 

FATHER,  how  wide  thy  glory  mines ! 
How  high  thy  wonders  rife  i 
Known  thro'  the  e^rth  by  thoufand  figns, 
.By  thoufand  thro'  the  ikies. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  Sic.  43 

II. 

Thofe  mighty  orbs  proclaim  thy  power, 

Their  motions  fpeak  thy  fkill ; 
And  on  the  wings  of  every  hour, 
"We  read  thy  patience  ftill. 
Ill, 
Part  of  thy  name  divinely  {lands 

On  all  thy  creatures  writ, 
They  fhew  the  labour  of  thine  hand?, 
Or  imprefs  of  thy  feet. 
IV. 
But  when  we  view  thy  ftrange  deCgn 

To  fave  rebellious  worms, 
Where  vengeance  and  compaifion  join 
In  their  divineft  forms. 
V. 
Our  thoughts  are  loft  in  reverend  awe  ; 

We  love  and  we  adore  : 
The  firft  arch-angel  never  faw 
So  much  of  Goo  before. 
VI. 
Here  the  whole  Deity  is  known,- 

Nor  dares  a  creature  guefs 
Which  of  the  glories  briteft  {hone, 
The  juftice  or  the  grace. 
VII. 
When  finners  broke  the  father's  laws, 

The  dying  fon  attones  ; 
Oh  the  dear  nryfteries  of  his  crofs  ? 
The  triumph  of  his  groans ! 
VIII. 
Now  the  full  glories  of  the  Lamb 

Adorn  the  heavenly  plains; 
Sweet  Cherubs  learn  ImmanueFs  name, 
And  try  their  choked  fkains. 


44       LYRIC     FOE  M  £.      Book  I. 

XT. 

O  may  T  bear  fome  humble  part 

In  that  immortal  long  ! 
Wonder  and  joys  (hall  tune  my  heart, 

And  love  command  my  tongue. 


The   Humble  Inquiry. 

A  French  ^r.net  imitated.     1695. 

Grand  Dieu^  tes  Jugemens,   &C. 

GRACE  rules  below,  and  fits  enthron'd  above, 
How  few  the  iparks  of  wrath  how  flow  they 
move 
And  drop  and  die  in  boundlefs  feas  of  love  ! 

II. 
But  me,  vile  wretch  !  fhould  pitying  love  embrace, 
Deep  in  its  ocean,  hell  itfelf  would  blaze, 
And  flafh,  and  burn  me  thro'  the  boundlefs  feas. 

III. 
Yea,  Lord,  my  guilt  to  fuch  a  vaftnefs  grown 
Seems  to  confine  thy  choice  to  wrath  alone, 
And  calls  thy  power  to  vindicate  thy  throne. 

IV. 
Thine  honour  bids,  avenge  thine  injur'd  name, 
Thy  flighted  loves  a  dreadful  glory  claim, 
While  my  moift  tears  might  but  incenfe  thy  flame. 

V. 
Should  heav'n  grow  black,  almighty  thunder  roar, 
And  vengeance  blaft  me,  I  could  plead  no  more, 
But  own  thv  juftice  dying,  and  adore. 

VI. 
Yet  can  thefe  bolts  of  death  .hat  cleave  the  flood 
To  reach  a  rebel,  pierce  this  fac.*°d  fhroud, 
Ting'd  in  the  vital  ftream  of  my  Redeemer's  blood? 

TilE 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  d§ 

The  Penitent  Pardoned. 

I. 

HENCE    from  my  foul,  my  fins,  depart, 
Your  fatal  friendfhip  now  I  fee  ; 
Long  have  you  dwelt  too  near  niv  heart, 
Hence,  to  eternal  diftance  fiee. 

II, 
Ye  gave  my  dying  Lord  his  wound, 
Yet  I  carefs'd  your  viperous  brood, 
And  in  my  heart-firings  lapp'd  you  round, 
You,  the  vile  murderers  of  my  God. 

III. 
Black  heavy  thoughts,  like  mountains,  roll 
O'er  my  poor  breaft,  with  boding  fears, 
And  crufhinghard  my  tortur'd  foul, 
Wring  thro'  my  eyes  the  briny  tears. 

IV. 
Forgive  my  treafons,  prince  of  grace, 
The  bloody  Jews  were  traitors  too, 
Yet  thou  haft  pray 'cl  for  that  curs'd  race, 
Father ,  tbey  jk/wzv  not  ivhat  ibey  do. 

V. 
Great  advocate  look  down  and  fee 
A  wretch,  whofe  fmarting  forrows  bleed  j 
O  plead  the  fame   excufe  for  me  ! 
For,  Lorb,  I  knew  not  what  I  did. 

VI.       . 
Peace,  my  complaints  ;  let  every  groan, 
Be  ftill,  and  filence  wait  his  love  : 
Compaffions  dwell  amidft  his  throne, 
And  thro'  his  inmoft  bowels  move. 

iVII. 
Lo,  from  the  everiafting  |fkies, 
Gently,  as  morning -dews  diflilj, 
The  dove  immortal  downward  flies, 
With  peaceful  olive  in  his  bill.  VIII. 


46     LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  I. 

VIII. 

How  fweet  the  voice  of  pardon  founds ! 
Sweet  the  relief  to  deep  diftrefs  ! 
J  feel  the  balm  that  heals  my  wounds, 
And  all  my  pow'rs  adore  thy  grace. 


A  hymn  of  Praise  for  three  great: 
Salvations,  viz. 

I.  From  the  Spanifii  Invafion,  1588. 
a.  From  the  Gun-powder,  Plot,  Nov.  5. 
3.  From  Popery  and  Slavery,  by  K.  William  of 
Glorious  memory,  who  landed,  Nov.  5,  1688. 

Cempoftd,  Nov.  5,  j  695. 

T. 

INFINITE  God,  thy  counfels  ftand 
Like  mountains  of  eternal  brafs, 
Pillars  to  prop  our  finking  land, 
Or  guardian  rocks  to  break  tbe  feas. 

II. 
From  pole  to  pole  thy  name  is  known, 
Thee  a  whole  heaven  of  angels  praife  ; 
Our  labouring  tongues  would  reach  thy  throne 
With  the  loud  triumphs  of  thy  grace. 

III. 
Part  of  thy  church,  by  thy  command, 
Stands  rais'd  upon  the  Britifh  ifles ; 
Tbftr,  faid  the  Lord,  to  ages  far.  Jy 
Firm  as  the  ever'ajling  bills. 

IV. 

In  vain  the  Spanifh  ocean  roar'd; 

Its  billows  fwell'd  againfl  our  fhore, 

Its  billows  funk  beneath  thy  word, 

With  all  the  floating  war  they  bore.  V. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  47 

v. 

Come,  faid  the  fons  of  bloody  Rome, 

Let  us  provide  nexv  arms  from   hell : 

And  down  they  digg'd  thro'  earth's  dark  womb, 

And  ranfack'd  all  the  burning  cell. 

VI. 
Old  fatan  lent  them  fiery  ftores, 
Infernal  coal,  and  fulph'rous  flame, 
And  all  that  burns,  and  all  that  roars. 
Outrageous  fires  of  dreadful  name. 

VII. 
Beneath  the  fenate  and  the  throne, 
Engines  of  hellifh   thunder  lay  ; 
There  the  dark  feeds  of  fire  were  fown, 
To  fpring  a  bright,  but  difmal  day. 

VIII. 
Thy  love  beheld  the  black  defign, 
Thy  love  that  guards  our  Ifiand  round  ; 
Strange  !  how  it  quench'd  the  fiery  mine., 
And  crufh'd  the  tempeft  under  ground. 


The  Second  Part, 

I. 

ASSUME,  my  tongue,  a  nobler  ftrain, 
Sing  the  new  wonders  of  the  Lord  ; 
The  foes  revive  their  pow'rs  again, 
Again  they  die  beneath  his  fword. 

II. 
Dark  as  our  thoughts  our  minutes  roll, 
While  tyranny  poffefs'd  the  throne, 
And  murderers  of  an  Inlh  foul 
&an,  threatmng  death,  thro'  every  tQWJQ* 

III. 


4S         LYRIC  POEMS,    Book  I. 
hi. 

The  Roman  prieft,   and  Britifh  prince, 
Join'd  their  bed  force,  and  Wackeft  charms, 
And  the  fierce  troops  of  neighbouring  France, 
Offer'd  the  fervice  of  their  arms. 

IV. 
*Tis  done,  they  cry'd,  and  laugh'd  aloud. 
The  courts  of  darknefs  rang  with  joy, 
Th'  oldferpent  hifs'd,  and  feed  grew  proud, 
Wnile  ZionmGurn'aher  rum  nigh. 

V. 
But  lo,  the  great  deliverer  fails. 
Gommiffion'd  from  J  bov  ih  s  hand, 
And  finding  fea;,  and  wifhing  gales, 
Convey  him  to  Hie  longing  i  md» 

VK 
The  happy  day,  and  happy  year,        ^  6g^ 

Both  ;n  our  new falyatidh  meet  :        £  •*' 

The  day  that  qi.nch'd  the  burning  Inure,    1    Nov.  5 
The  year  that  burnt  the  invading ikec.  $    IJ&3. 

VII. 
Now  did  thine  arm,   O  God  of  hofts, 
Now  did  thine  arm.   fhme  dazzling  oright, 
The  fons  of  might  their  hands  had  iofl, 
And  men  of  blood  forgot  to  fight. 

VIII. 
Brigades  of  angelrlin'd  the  way, 
And  guarded  William  to  his  throne  ; 
There,  ye  celeftial  warriors  ftay, 
And  makes  his  palace  like  your  own. 

IX. 
Then,  mighty  God,  the  earth  fhall  know, 
And  learn  the  wcrfhip  of  the  fky; 
Angels  and  Britons  join  below, 
To  raife  their  hallelujahs  high, 

X. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  49 

All  hallelujah,  heavenly  king  ; 
While  diftant  lands  thy  vidtory  fing, 
And  tongues  their  utmoft  powers  employ, 
The  world's  bright  roof  repeats  the  joy. 


The   Incomprehensible. 

I. 

FA  R  in  the  heav'ns  my  God  retires, 
My   God,  the  mark  of  my  defires, 
And  hides  his  lovely  face  j 
When  he  defcends  within  my  view, 
He  charms  my  reafon  to  purfue, 
Eut  leaves  it  tir'd  and  fainting  in  th'  unequal  chafe. 
II. 
Or  if  I  reach  unufual  height 

Till  near  his  prefence  brought, 
There  floods  of  glory  check  my  flight, 
Cramp  the  bold  pinions  of  my  wit, 
And  all  untune  my  thought  : 
Piung'd  in  a  fea  of  light  I  roll, 
V/here ivifdom,  jiijike,  mercy ,  mines; 
Infinite  rays  in  eroding  lines 

Beat  thick  confufion  on  my  fight,  and  overwhelm 
my  foul. 

III. 
Come  to  my  aid,  ye  fellow-minds, 
And  help  me  reach  the  throne  ; 
(What  fingle  ftrength,  in  vain  defigns, 
United  force  hath  done  ; 
Thus  worms  may  join,  and  grafp  thepoles, 

Thus  atoms  fill  the  fea  j 
jBut  the  whole  race  of  creaturt-jouls 

E  Stretch  \} 


So         LYRIC  POE  M  S,     Book  I. 

Stretch'dto  their  lait  extent  of  thought,  plunge 
and  are  loll  in  thee. 
IV. 
Great  God,  behold  my  reafons  lies 
Adoring;  yet  my  love  would  rife 

On  pinions  not  her  own  : 
Faith  fhall  direcb  her  humble  flight 
Thro'  all  the  tracklefs  feas  of  light, 
To  Thee,  th'  Eternal  Fair,  the  Infinite  Unknown, 


Death  and   Eternity. 

I. 

MY  thought?,  that  often  mount  the  Ikies, 
Go,  f-iarch  the  wcrld  beneath, 
Wherenatifrein  ail  ruin  lies, 
And  owns  her  fov:reign,  death. 
II. 
The  tyrant,  how  he  triumphs  here  ! 

His  trophies  fpread  around  ! 
And  heaps  of  dull  and  bones  appear 
Thro'  all  the  hollow  ground. 
III. 
Thefe  fkulh,  what  ghaftly  figures  now! 

How  tbathfome  to  the  eyes  ? 
Thefe  are  the  heads  we  lately  knew 
So  beauteous  and  fo  wife* 
IV. 
But  where  the  fouls,  thofe  deathlefs  things, 

That  left  this  dying  clay  ? 
Ky  thoughts,  now  ftretch  out  all  your  wings, 
And  trace  eternity. 

V. 

O  that  unfathomable  fea  ! 

Thefe  deeps  without  a  fnore  ! 


Where 


Sacred  to  Devotion.  &c. 

Where  living  waters  gently  play, 

Or  fiery  billows  roar. 

VI. 
Thus  mail:  we  leave  the  banks  of  life, 

An-i  try  this  doubtful  fea  ; 
Vain  are  our  groans,  and  dying  Srife, 

To  sain  a  moment's  fray. 
VII. 
There  we  fhall  fwim  in  heav'Iy  blife, 

Or  fink  in  flaming;" waves, 
While  the  pale  carcafe  thoughtlefsiieft, 

Amcngft  the  filent  graves, 

yin. 

Some  hearty  friend  fhall  drop  his  tear 

On  our  dry  bones,  and  fuy, 
"  Thefe  once  were  ftrong,  as  mine  appeal 

"  And  mine  muft  be  as- they." 
IX. 
Thus  fhall  our  mould'ring  members  teach 

What  now  our  fenfes  learn  : 
For  dfiit  and  aihes  loudeft  preacli 

Man's  infinite  concern. 


A  Sight   of  Heaven   in   Sickness. 
I. 

OF  T  have  I  fat  in  in  fecret  hVhs, 
To  feel  my  flefh  decays 
Then  groan'd  aloud  with  frighted  eye?, 
To  view  the  tott'ring  clay, 
II. 
But  1  forbid  my  forroWs  now, 

Nor  dares  the'flelh  complain  ; 
Difeafes  bring  their  profit  too  ; 
The  joy  o'er  comes  the  pain . 

E  3  III. 


52       LYRIC     P  0  E  M  S,      Book  I. 
HI. 

My  chearful  foul  now  all  the  day 

Sits  waiting  here  and  fings ; 
Looks  thro'  the  ruins  of  her  clay, 
And  praclifes  her  wings. 
IV. 
Faith  almoft  change;,  into  fight, 

While  from  afar  fhe  fpies, 
Her  fair  inheritance,  in  light 
Above  created  Ikies. 

V. 
Had  but  the  prifon-walls  been  fLrcng, 

And  firm  without  a  flaw, 
In  darkneisfhe  had  dwelt  too  long, 
And  lefs  of  glory  faw. 
VI. 
But  now  thexverlafting  hills 
Thro'  every  chink  appear, 
And  iome thing  of  the  joy  fee  feel's 
While  file's  a  pris'cer  Here. 
VII. 
The  fhinesof  heaven  rufh  fweetly  in 

At  all  the  gaping  flaws  ; 
Vifioas  of  endlefs  blifs  are  feen ; 
And  native  air  fhe  draws. 
VIII. 
O  mzi  thife  walls  ilandtott'ring  ftiii, 

The  breaches  never  clofe, 
If  I  mull  here  in  darknefs  dwell, 
And  ail  his  glory  lofe  ! 
IX. 
Or  rather  let  this  flefli  decay, 

The  ruins  wider  grow, 
Till  glad  to  fee  th'  enlarged  way, 
I  ftretch  my  pinions  through. 

Til 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  53 

The  Universal   Hallelujah. 
Pfaim  cxlviii.  paraphrafed. 
I. 

PRAISE  ye  the  Lord  with  joyful  tongue, 
Ye  povv'rsthat  guard  his  throne  ; 
JESUS  the  Man   {hail  lead  the  long. 
The  God  infpire  the  tune. 
II. 
Gabriel,  and  all  th'  immortal  choir 

That  fill  the  realms  above, 
Sing,  for  he  form'd  you  of  his  fire, 
And  feeds  you  with  his  love. 
III. 
Shine  to  his  praife,  ye  cryftal  Ikies, 

The  floor  of  his  abode, 
Or  veil  your  little  twinkling  eyes 
Before  a  brighter  God. 
IV. 
Thou  reftlefs  globe  of  golden  light, 

"vVhcfe  beams  create  cur  days, 
Join  with  the  filver  queen  cf  night, 
To  own  your  borrow'd  rays. 
V. 
Blufh  and  refund  the  honours  paid. 

To  your  inferior  names  ; 
Tell  the  blind  world,  your  orbs  are  fed 
By  his  o'erfiowing  flames, 
VT. 
Winds,  ye  fhall  bear  his  name  aloud. 

Thro'  the  etherial  blue, 
For  when  his  chariot  is  a  cloud, 
He  makes  his  wheels  of  you. 
VII. 
Thunder  and  hail,  and  fires  and  {forms, 
The  troops  of  his  command, 

E  3  Appear 


54       LYRIC     POEMS.      Book  I, 

Appear  in  all  your  dreadful  forms, 
And  fpeak  his  awful  hand. 
VIII. 
Shout  to  the  Lord,  ye  furging  feas, 

In  your  eternal  roar ; 
Let  wave  to  wave  refound  his  praife, 
And  fhore  reply  to  fhore, 
IX. 
"While  monfiersfporting  on  the  flood 

In  fcaly  filverfhine, 
Speak  terribly  their  Maker  God, 
And  lafh  the  foaming  brine. 
X. 
Eut  gentler  things  (hall  tune  his  name 

To  fofter  notes  than  thefe, 
Young  zephyrs  breathing  o'er  the  ftream, 
Or  whifpering  thro'  the  trees. 
XT. 
Wave  your  tall  heads,  ye  lofty  pines, 

To  him  that  bid  you  grow, 
Sweet  clufters  bend  the  fruitful  vines 
On  every  thankful  bough. 
XII. 
Let  the  fnrill  birds  his  honour  raife, 

And  climb  the  morning  fky : 
While  groveling  beafts  attempt  his  praife 
In  hoarfer  harmony. 

XIII. 
Thus  while  the  meaner  creature  flng,. 

Ye  mortals,  take  the  found, 
Echo  the  glories  of  your  King 
Thro'  all  the  nations  round. 
XIV. 
Th'  eternal  name  muft  fly  abroad 
Prom  Britain  to  Japan  ; 

And 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  Sec,  .55 


And  the  whole  race  fhall  bow  to  Gob 
That  owns  the  name  of  man. 


The  Atheist's  Mistake. 

I. 

LAUGH,  ye  proph^ne,  and  fwell  and  burft 
With  bold  impiety  : 
Yet  fhall  ye  live  for  ever  curs'd, 
And  feek  in  vain  to  die. 
II. 
The  gafp  of  your  expiring  breath 

Configns  your  fouls  to  chains, 
By  the  latl  agonies  of  death 
Sent  down  to  fiercer  pains. 
III. 
Ye  ftand  upon  a  dreadful  fteep, 

And  all  beneath  is  hell, 
Your  weighty  guilt  will  fink  you  deep, 
"Where  the  old  ferpent  fell. 
IV. 
When  iron  flumberg  bind  your  fiefh, 

With  ftrange  furprife  you'll  find 
Immortal  vigour  fpring  afrefh, 
And  tortures  wake  the  mind! 
V. 
Then  you'll  confefs  the  frightful  names 

Of  plagues  you  fcorn'd  before, 
No  more  fhall  look  like  idle  dreams, 
Like  foolifh  tales  no  more. 
VI. 
Then  fhall  ye  curfe  that  fatal  day, 
(With  flames  upon  your  tongues) 

Whco 


56     LYRIC    PO  E  M  S.     Book  I. 

When  you  exchang'd  your  fouls  away 
For  vanity  r.nd  fon'j-s. 

.  vir. 

Behold  the  faints  rejoice  to  die, 

For  heuv'n  fhines  round  their  heads  ; 
And  angel  guard*  prepar'd  to  fly. 

Attend  their  fainting  beds. 
VIII. 
Their  longing  fpirits  part,  and  rife 

To  their  celeftial  feat  ; 
Above  thefe  ruinable  fkies 

They  make  their  lafb  retreat. 
IX. 
Hence,  ye  prophane,  1  hate  your  ways, 

I  walk  with  pioi:<:.  fouls; 
There's  a  wide  difference  in  our  race, 

And  difiant  are  our  goals. 


The  Law   given  at  Sin  at. 
I. 

AR  M  thee  with  thunder,  heavenly  mufe. 
An&keep  th'  expecting  world  in  awe  ; 
Oft  haft  thou  lung  in  gentler  mood 
The  melting  mercies  of  thy  Goo  ; 
Now  give  thy  fierceft  fires  a  loofe, 

And  found  his  dreadful  law  : 

To  Ifrael  firft  the  words  were  fpoke, 

To  Ifrael  freed  from  Egypt's  yoke, 

Inhuman  bondage  !  the  hard  galling  load 

Over-prefs'd  their  feeble  fouls, 

Bent  their  knees  to  fenfelefs  bulkv 

And  broke  their  tics  to  God. 


Sacred  to  Devotion.   Sec, 


57 


II. 

Now  had  they  pafs'd  the  Arabian  bay, 

And  march'd  between  the  cleavmg;iea  ; 
The   rifing   waves  fiocd  guardians  of  their  won- 
d'rous  way, 

Put  fell  with  mofl  impetuous  force, 
On  the  purfuing  fv/drms, 

And  bury 'd  Egypt  all  in  arms, 
Blending  in  watry  death  the  rider  and  the  horfe  : 
O'er  ftruggling  Pharaoh  roll'd  the  mighty  tide, 
And  fa v'd  the  labours  of  a  pyramid. 

Apis  and  Ore  in  vain  he  cries, 

And  ail  his  horned  Gods  befide, 

Ke  fwallows  fate  with  fwimming  eyes, 

And  curs' d  the   Hebrews  as  he  dy'd. 
III. 

Ah  \  foclifh  Ifrael,  to  comply 

With  Memphian  idolatry! 

And  bow  to  brutes,  (a  ftupid  Cave) 

To  idols  impotent  to  fave! 
Behold  thy  God,  the  fovereign  of  the  Iky, 

Has  wrought  falvation  in  the  deep, 

Idas  bound  thy  foes  in  iron  fieep, 
And  rais'd  thine  honours  high ; 

His  grace  forgives  thy  follies  paft, 

Behold  he  comes  in  majefty, 

And  Sinai's  top  proclaims  his  law  : 

Prepare  to  meet  thy  God  in  hafle  ; 

But  keep  an  awful  difhance  ftill : 

Let  Mofes  round  the  facred  hill 
The  circling  limits  draw. 
IV. 
Hark  !  the  fhrill  echoes  of  the  trumpet  roar, 

And  call  the  trembling  armies  near  , 

Slow  and  unwilling  they  appear, 

Rails 


IC  POEMS,     Book  T. 


Rails  kept  them  from  the  mount  before, 

Now  from  the  rails  their  feat  I 

'Twas  the  fame  herald,  ami  the  trump  the  fame 

Which  {hall  be  blown  by  high  command, 

Shall  bid  the  wheels  of  nature  Rand, 

And  heav'r.s  eternal  will  proclaim, 

Ih&timcjhall  I:  no  more. 

V. 

Thus  while  the  labouring  rngeifwell'd  the  found, 

And  rent  the  (kiesj  and  fnook  the  ground, 

Up  rofe  th"  Almighty  ;  round  his  fapphire  feat, 

Adoring  thrones  in  order  fell  ? 

The  leffer  powers  at  di  fiance  dwell, 

And  caft  their  glories  down  fucceffive  at  his  feet-; 

Gabriel  the  great  prepares  his  way, 

Lift  i.f  your  beads,  eternal  dcors,  he  cries  ; 

Th'  eternal  door*  his  word  obey, 

Open,  and  fhoot  celeftial  day 

Upon  the  lower  fkies, 

Heav'ns  mighty  pillars  bow'd  their  head, 

As  their  creator  bid, 

And  down  Jehovah  rode  from  the  fuperior  fphere, 

A  thoufand  guards  before,  and  myriads  in  the  rear. 
v 

VI. 

His  chariot  was  a  pitchy  cloud, 

The  wtels  befct  with  burning  gems ; 

The  winds  in  harnefs  with  the  flatties 
I-' lew  o'er  th*  uhereal  road  : 

Down  thro'  his  magazines  he  paffc 

Of  hail,  and  ice  and  fleecy  fnow, 

Swift  roli'd  the  triumph,  and  as  faft 
Did  hail,  and  ice,  in  incited  rivers  Row, 

The  day  W2s  mingled  with  the  night, 
His  feet  on  folid  darknefs  trod, 

His  radiant  eyes  proclaim 'd  the  God, 

And 


Sacred  to  D e v o t i ox,  Sec,  59 

And  fcatter'd  dreadful  light ; 
He  breath'd,  and  fulphur  rar^  a  fiery  flream  : 
He  fpoke,  and  (tho'  with  unknown  fpeed  he  came) 
Chid  the  How  tempeft,  and  the  lagging  fianie. 
VII. 
Sinai  receiv'd  his  glorious  Sight, 
With  axle  red,  and  glowing  wheel 

Did  the  winged  chariot  light, 
And  riling  fmoke  obfeur'd  the  burning  hill. 
Lo,  it  mounts  in  curling  waves, 
Lo,  the  gloomy  pride  out-braves 
The  ftately  pyramids  of  fire, 
The  pyramids  to  heav'n  afpire, 
And  mix  with  liars,  but  fee  their  gloomy  offspring 

higher. 
So  have  you  feen  ungrateful  ivy  grew 
Round  the  tail  oak  that  fix  fcore  years  has  flood, 

And  proudly  fnoot  a  leaf  or  two 
Above  its  kind  fuppcrter's  utmoft  bough, 
And  glory  there  to  fcand  the  loftieft  of  the  wood. 
VIII. 
Forbear,  young mufe,  forbear; 
The  fiow'ry  things  that  poets  fay, 
The  little  arts  of  Simile 

Are  vain  and  ufelefs  here  ; 
Nor  fhall  the  burning  hills  of  old 

With  Sinai  be  compar'd, 
Nor  all  that  lying  Greece  b.3s  told, 
Or  learned  Rome  has  heard  ; 
JEtna  fhall  be  nam'd  no  more, 
jEtna,  the  torch  of  Sicily, 
Not  half  fo  high 
Her  lightning  fly, 
Not  half  fo  loud  her  thunders  roar 
Crofs  the  Sicanian  fea,  to  fright  th'  Italian  fh«re. 

Behold 


Co         LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  I. 

Behold  the  facred  hill :  its  trembling  fpire 
Quakes  at  the  terrors  of  a  fire, 
While  all  below  its  verdant  feet 
Stagger  and  reel  under  th'  almighty  weight  : 
Prei's'd  with  a  greater  than  feign'd  Atlas'  load 
Deep  groan'd  the  mount ;  it  never  bore 
Infinity  before, 
Itbow'd,  and  fhook  beneath  the  burden  of  a  God, 
IX. 
Frefh  horror  feize  the  camp,  defpair, 
And  dying  groans,  torment  the  air, 
And  fhrieks,  and  fwoons,  and  deaths  were  there  : 
The  bellowing  thunder,  and  the  lightnings  blaze 

Spread  thro'  the  hoft  a  wild  amaze  ; 
Darknefs  on  every  foul,  and  pale  was  every  face : 
Confus'd  and  difmal  were  the  cries, 
Lei  Mofesfpeah  Or  Jfraeldies  : 
Mofes  the  fpreading  terror  feels, 
No  more  the  man  of  God  conceals 

His  fhivering  and  furprize  : 
Yet,  with  recovering  mind,  commands 
Silence,  and  deep  attention,  thro'  the  Hebrew  bands. 
X. 
Hark !  from  the  center  of  the  flame, 
All  arm'd  and  feather'd  with  the  fame, 
Majeftic  founds  break  thro'  the  fmoaky  cloud  ; 

Sent  from  the  all-creating  tongue, 
A  flight  of  cherubs  guard  the  words  along, 
And  bear  their  fiery  law  to  the  retreating  crowd. 
XI. 
11  I  am  the  Lord  ;  'tis  I  proclaim 
"  That  glorious  and  that  fearful  name, 
"Thy  God  and  King:  'TwasI,  that  broke 
««  Thy  bondage,  and  th'  Egyptian  yoke; 
"  Mine  is  the  right  to  fpeak  my  will, 
*«  And  thine  the  duty  to  fulfil.  "  Adore 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  6 i 

"  Adore  no  God  befide  me,  to  provoke  mine  eyes  : 
"  Nor  worfiiip  me  in  fhapes   and  forms  that  men 

devife  ; 
"  With  rev'rence  ufe  my  name,  nor  turn  my  word* 

to  jell; 
"  Obferve  my  fabbath  well,  nor  dare  prophane  my 

reft ; 
{t  Honour  and  due  obedience,  to  thy  parents  give  ; 
"  Nor  fpili  the  guiltlefs  blood,  nor  let  the  guilty  live: 
"  Prefervethybodychafte,  and  flee  th'  unlawfulbed; 
te  Nor  fteal  thy  neighbour's  gold,  his  garment,  or 

his  bread  : 
c£  Forbear  to  Waft  his  name  with  faiihood  or  deceit  ; 
"  Nor  let  thy  wiihes  looie  upon  his  large  eftate. 


Remember  your   Creator,    <&c.    Ecclef. 

xii. 

I. 

CHILDREN  to  your  Creator  God, 
Your  early  honours  pay, 
While  vanity  and  youthful  blood 
Would  tempt  your  thoughts  aftray. 
II. 
The  memory  of  his  mighty  name, 

Demands  your  firft  regard, 
Nor  dare  indulge  a  meaner  flame, 
'Till  you  have  lov'd  the  Lord. 
III. 
Be  wife,  and  make  his  favour  fure, 

Before  the  mournful  days, 
When  youth  and  mirth  are  known  no  more, 
And  life  and  ftrength  decays." 

F  IV. 


62         LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  I, 

IV. 

No  more  the  bltffingsof  a  feaft 

Shall  relifh  on  the  tongue, 
The  heavy  ear  forgets  the  tafte 
And  pleafure  of  a  fofcg; 
V. 
Old  age  with  all  her  ffifmal  train, 

Invades  your  golden  years 
With  fighs  and  groans,  and  raging  pain, 
And  death,  that  never  fperes. 
VI. 
What  will  you  do  when  light  departs, 

And  leaves  your  withering  eyes, 
Without  one  beam  to  chear  your  hearts, 
From  the  fuperior  Ikies  ? 
VII, 
fiow  will  you  meet  Goo's  frowning  brow, 

Or  flaud  before  his  feat, 
While  nature's  old  fupporters  bow, 
Nor  bear  their  tott'ring  weight : 
VIII. 
Can  you  expccl  your  feeble  arms 

Shall  make  a  ftrong  defence, 
When  death  with  terrible  alarms, 
Summons  the  pris'ner  hence  ? 
IX. 
The  filver  bands  of  nature  burft, 

And  let  the  building  fall ; 
The  flefh  goes  down  to  mix  with  duft, 
Its  vile  original. 

X. 
Laden  with  guilt,   (a  heavy  load) 

Uncleans'd  and  unforgiv'n, 
The  foul  returns  t'  an  angry  God, 
Tube  fhut  out  from  heay'n. 

Syx, 


Sacred  to  Devotion,   &c.  63 

Sun,    Moon    and    Stars,     praise    ye 
the   Lord. 
I. 
TT1  A I  R  E  S  T  of  all  the  lights  above. 
JC    Thou  fun,  whofe  beams  adorn  the  fpheres, 
And  with  unwearyM  fwiftnefs  move, 
To  form  the  circles  of  our  years  j 

n. 

Praife  the  Creator  cf  the  ikies, 
That  drefs'd  thine  orb  in  golden  rays  : 
Or  may  the  fun  forget  to  rife, 
If  he  forget  his  Maker's  praife. 

III. 
Thou  reigning  beauty  of  the  night, 
Fair  queen  of  den.ee,  dyer  moon, 
Whofe  gentle  beams  and  bcrrow'd  light, 
Are  fofter  rivals  of  the  neon  ; 

IV. 
Arife,  and  to  that  fov'rdgn  power 
Waxing  and  waning  honours  pay, 
Who  bid  thee  rule  the  dulky  hour, 
And  half  fupply  the  abfent  day. 

V. 
Ye  twinkling  ftars,  who  gild  the  Ikies 
When  darknefs  ha^  its  curtains  drawn, 
Who  keep  your  watch  with  wakeful  eyes, 
When  bufinefs,  cares,  and  day  are  gone  ; 

VI. 
Proclaim  the  glories  of  the  Lord, 
Difpers'd  thro'  all  the  heav'nly  fireet, 
Whofe  boundlefs  treafures  can  afford 
So  rich  a  pavement  for  his  feet. 

VII. 
Thou  heav'ns,  fupremely  bright, 
Fair  palace  of   the  court  divine, 

F  3  Where 


64         LYRIC  POEMS,  Book  I, 

Where,  with  inimitable  light, 
The  Godhead  condefcends  to  fhine. 

VIII. 
Praife  thou  thy  Great  Inhabitant, 
Who  fcatters  lovely  beams  of  grace 
On  every  angel,  every  faint, 
Nor  veils  the  luftre  of  his  face. 

IX. 
O  God  of  glory,  God  of  love, 
Thou  art  the  fun  that  makes  our  days  : 
With  all  thy  finning  works  above, 
Let  earth   and  dull  attempt  thy  praife. 


The  Welcome  Messenger. 

I. 

10  R  D  when  we  fee  a  faint  of  thine 
_j  Lie  gaiping  out  his  breath, 
With  longing  eyes,  and  looks  divine, 
Smiling  and  pleafs'd  in  death  ; 
II. 
How  we  could  e'en  contend  to  lay 

Our  limbs  upon  that  bed 
We  afk  thine  envoy  to  convey 
Our  fpirits  in  hi3  ftead. 
III. 
Cur  fouls  are  rifing  on  the  wind, 

To  venture  in  his  place; 
For  when  grim  death  has  loft  his  fling. 
He  has  an  angel's  face. 
IV. 
JESUS,  then  purge  my  crimes  away, 
'Ti»  guilt  creates  my  fears, 


Tis 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  Sic,  6^ 

'Tis  guilt  gives  death  its  fierce  array, 
And  all  the  arms  it  bears. 
V. 
Oh  !  if  my  threat'ning  fins  were  gone, 

And  death  had  loft  his  fting, 
I  could  invite  the  angel  on, 
And  chide  his  lazy  wing. 
VI 
Away  thefe  interpofihg  days, 

And  let  the  lovers  meet; 
The  angel  has  a  cold  embrace, 
But  kind,  and  foft,  and  fweet. 
VII 
I'd  leap  at  once  my  feventy  years,, 

I'd  ruin  into  his  arms, 
And  lofe  my  breath,  and  all  my  cares, 
Amidil  thole  heav'nly  charms. 
VIII 
Joyful  I'd  lay  this  body  down. 
And  leave  the  lifeleis  clay, 
Without  a  figh,  without  a  groan,       , 
And  ftretch  and  foar  away. 


Sincere  Praise. 

I. 

ALMIGHTY  Maker,  God! 
How  wond'rous  is  thy  name! 
Thy  glories,  how  diffus'd  abroad 
Thro'  the  creation's  frame  ! 

II. 
Nature  in  every  drefs. 
Her  humble  homage  pays, 
And  finds  a  thoufand  wayst'  exprefs 
Thine  undiffembkd  praife. 

F  3  J"- 


66         LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  I. 

ITT. 

In  native  white  and  red 
The  rofe  and  lilly  ftand, 
And  free  from  pride,  their  beauties  fpread. 
To  fliew  thy  fkilfulhand. 

IV. 
The  lark  mounts  up  the  Iky, 
With  unambitious  fong, 
And  bears  her  Maker's  praife  on  high 
Upon  her  artlefs  tongue. 
V. 
My  foul  would  rife  and  fing 
To  her  Creator  too, 
Tain  would  my  tongue  adore  my  King, 
And  pay  the  worfhip  due. 

VI. 
But  pride,  that  bufy  fin 
Spoils  all  that  I  perform  ; 
Curs'd  pride,  that  creeps  fecurely  in, 
Andfwells  a  haughty  worm. 

VII. 
Thy  glories  I  abate, 
Or  praife  thee  with  defign  ; 
Some  of  the  favours  I  forget, 
Or  think  the  merit  mine. 
VIII. 
The  very  fongs  I  frame 
Are  faithlefs  to  thy  caufe, 
And  fteal  the  honours  of  thy  name, 
To  build  their  own  applaufe. 

IX. 
Create  my  foul  anew, 
Elfe  all  my  jworfhip's  vain  ; 
J  This  wretched  heart  will  ne'er  be  true, 
Until  'tis  form'd  again. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  <&c.  67 

X. 

Defcend,  celeflial  fire, 
And  feize  me  from  above, 
Melt  me  in  flames  of  pure  deflre, 
A  facrifice  to  love. 

xi: 

.Let  joy  and  worfhip  fpend 
The  remnant  of  my  days, 
And  to  my  God,  my  foul,   afcend, 
In  fweet  perfumes  of  praife. 


True  Learning. 

Partly  imitated  from  a  French  fonnet  of  M.  Pcieret. 
I. 

HAPPY  the  feet  that  mining  Truth  has  led 
With  her  own  hand  to  tread  the  path  fhe  pleafc 
To  fee  her  native  luftre  round  her  fpread, 

Without  a  veil,  without  a  fhade, 
All  beauty,  and  all  light,  as  in  herfelf  fhe  is. 

TI. 
Our  fenfes  cheat  us  with  the  premng  crowds 
Of  painted  fhapes  they  thrufi:  upon  the  mind  ; 
The  truth  they  fhew  lies  wrapp'd  in  fevenfold  fhrouds 

Our  fenfes  caft  a  thoufand  clouds 
On  unenlighten'd  fouls  and  leave  them  doubly  blind, 

III. 
I  hate  the  duft  that  fierce  difputers  raife, 
Andlofe  the  mind  in  a  wild  maze  of  thought : 
What  empty  triflings,  and  what  fubtle  ways, 

Townee  and  guard  by  rule  and  rote! 
Our  God  will  never  charge  us,  That  we  know  them 
not. 


IT, 


68     LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  I. 

IV. 
Touch,  heavenly  Word,  O  touch  thefe  curious  fouls; 
.Since  F  have  hegpd  but  one  foft  hxm  from  thee, 
From  all  the  vain  opinions  of  the  fchools 

(That  pageantry  of  knowing  fools) 
I  feel  my  powers.releas'd,  and  ftahd  divinely  free. 

'T  was  this  almighty  Word  that  all  things  made, 
He  grafps  whole  nature  in  his  fingle^hand  ; 
All  the  eternal  truths  in  him  are  laid, 

The  ground  of  all  things,  and  their  head, 
The  circle  where  they  move,  and  center  where  they 
(land.  ' 

VI. 
Without  his  aid  Ic  have  no  fure  defence 
Frora  troops  of  errors  that  befiege  me  round  • 
But  he  tivat  reiishisreafon  and  his  ienfe 
Faft  here,  and  never  wanders  hence, 
Unmoveable  he  dwells  upon  unlhaken  ground. 

VII. 
Infinite  Truth,  the  life  of  my  deflres,. 
Come  from  the  fky,  and  join  thyfeif  to  me; 
I'm  tir'd  with  bearing,  and  this  reading  tires  ; 

But  never  tir'd  of  telling  thee, 
'Tis  thy  fair  face  alone  my  fpirit  burns  to  fee. 

VIII. 
Speak  to  my  foul,  alone,  no  other  hand 
Shall  mark  my  path  out  with  delufive  art: 
All  nature  filent  in  his  prefence  fcand.  # 

Creatures  be  dumb  at  his  command, 
And  leave  his  Tingle  voice  to  whifper  to  my  heart. 

IX. 
Retire,  my  foul,  within  thyfeif  retire, 
Away  fromfenfe  and  every  outward  fhow  : 

Now 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  69 

:   Now  let  my  thoughts  to  loftier  themes  afpire, 
My  knowledge  now  on  wheels  of  fire 
May  mount  and  fpread  above,  furveying  all  below. 

■v 

The  Lord  grows  lavifh  of  his  heav'nly  light, 
And  pours  whole  floods  on  fuch  a  mind  as  this; 
Fled  from  the  eyes  fhe  gains  a  piercing  fight, 

She   dives  into  the  infinite, 
And  fees  unutterable  things  in  that  unknown  abyfs. 


True  Wisdom. 


PRONOUNCE  him  bled,  my  mile,  whom 
ii-ifdom  guides 
In  her  own  path,  to  her  own  heavenly  feat ; 
Thro'  all  the  ftcrms  his  foul  fecurely  glides  ; 
Nor  can  the  temp-efts,  nor  the  tides, 
That  rife  and  roar  around,  fupplant  his  fteady  feet, 
I:. 
Earth,  yoiimaylet  your  golden  arrows  fly, 
And  fefek  in  vain,  a  paffage  to  his  breaft, 
Spread  all  \rour  painted  toys  to  court  his  eye, 
He  fmiles,  and  fees  them  vainly  try 
To  lure  his  foul  Elide  from  her  eternal  reft. 

lit. 

Our  hcad-ftrong  luffs,  like  a  young  fiery  horfe, 
Start  and  flee  raging  in  a  violent  courfe  ; 
He  tames  and  breaks  them ,  manages  and  rides  'em, 
Checks  their  career,  and_turns  and  guides  'em, 
And  bids  his  reafon  bridle  their  licentious  force. 

iy. 

Lord  of  himfelf,  he  rules  his  wildeft  thoughts, 
And  boldly  a&s  what  calmly  he  defign'd, 

Whilft 


7o       LYRIC     POEMS,      Book  I. 

Whilft  he  looks  down  and  pities  human  faults ; 
Nor  can  he  think,  nor  can  he  find 
A  plague  like  reigning  paffion,  and  a  fubjecl  mind. 
V. 
But  oh  !  'tis  mighty  toil  to  reach  this  height, 
To  vanquifh  felf  is  a  laborious  art, 
What  manly  courage  to  fuftain  the  fight, 
To  bear  the  noble  pain,  and  part 
With  thofe  dear  charming  tempters  rooted  in  the 
heart ! 

VI. 
'Tis  hard  to  [land  when  all  the  palhcns  move, 
Hard  to  awake  the  eye  that  pafiion  binds 
To  rend  and  tear  out  this  unhappy  love, 
That  clings  fo  clofe  about  our  minds, 
And  where  th'  enchanted  foul  fo  f weet  a  poifon  find*. 
VII. 
Hard;  but  it  may  be  done.     Come  heavenly  fire, 
Come  to  my  breafi,  and  with  one  powerful  ray 
Melt  off  my  hafts,  my  fetters  :  I  can  bear 
A  while  to  be  a  tenant  here, 
Eut  not  be  chain'd  and  prifon'd  in  a  cage  of  clay. 
Villi 
Hcav'n  is  my  home,  and  I  muft  ufe  my  wings ; 
Sublime  above  the  globe  my  flight  afpires; 
1  have  a  foul  was  made  to  pity  kings, 
And  ail  their  little  glitt'ring  things; 
I  have  a  foul  was  made  for  infinite  defires. 
IX. 
Loos'u  from  the  earth,  my  heart  is  upward  flown  ; 
Farewti,  my  friends,  and  all  that  once  was  mine; 
Nov/,  fhould  you  fix  my  feet  on  Casfar's throne, 
Crown  me,  and  call  the  world  my  own, 
The  gold  that  binds  my  brows  oduld  ne'er  my  foul 
confine, 

X. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  71 

X. 

I  am  the  Lord's,  and  JESUS  is  my  love  ; 
He,  the  dear  God,  fhall   fill  my  vaft  defire. 
My  fiefh  below  ;   yet  I  can  dwell  above, 
And  nearer  to  my  Saviour  move; 
There  all  my  foul  {hall  center,  all  my  pow'rs  conr 
fpire. 

XI. 
Thus  I  with  angels  live  ;  thus  half  divine 
I  fit  on  high;  nor  mind  inferior  joys; 
Fiil'd  with  his  love,  I  feel  that  God  is  mine 
Hi?  glory  is  my  great  defign, 
That  everlafting  project:  all  my  thoughts  employs. 


A  Song  to  Creating  Wisdom. 

PART      1. 
I. 

ETERNAL  Wisdom,  thee  we  praife, 
1     Thee  the  creation  fings  ; 
With  thy  loud  name,  rocks,  hills  and  feas, 
And  heav'ns  high  palace  rings. 
II. 
Place  me  on  the  bright  wings  of  day 

To  travel  with  the  fun  ; 
With  what  amaze  Avail  I  furvey 
Th'e  wonders  thou  halt  done  ? 
HI. 
Thy  hand  how  wide  it  fpread  the  iky  ! 

How  glorious  to  behold  ! 
Tir.g'd  with  a  blue  of  heavenly  dye, 
And  ftarr'd  withfparkling  gold, 
IV. 
There  thou  haft  bid  the  globes  of  light 

Their  endlefs  circles  run ;  Th< 


7*       LYRIC     POEMS,       Book  I. 

There  the  pale  planet  rules  the  night, 
And  day  obeys  the  fun. 

-      PART      II. 
V. 

Downward  I  turn  my  wond'ring  eyes 

On  clouds  and  ftorms  below, 
Thofe  under-regions  of  the  Ikies 

Thy  numerous  glories  fhow. 
VI. 
The  noify  winds  (land  ready  there 

Thy  orders  to  obey, 
With  founding  wings  they  fweep  the  air 

To  make  thy  chariot  way. 
VII. 
There,  like  a  trumpet,  loud  and  ftrong, 

Thy  thunder  fhakes  our  coaft ; 
While  the  red  lightnings  wave  along, 

The  banners  of  thine  hoft. 
VIII. 
On  the  thin  air,  without  a  prop, 

Hang  fruitful  ihow'rs  around  ; 
At  thy  command  they  fink,  and  drop 

Their  fatnefs  on  the  ground. 

PART      III. 
IX. 

Now  to  the  earth  I  bend  my  fong, 

And  caft  my  eyes  abroad, 
Glancing  the  Britifh  ifies  along  ; 

Bleft  ifles,  confefs  your  God. 
X. 
How  did  his  wond'rous  fkill  array, 

Your  fields  in  charming  green  ; 
A  thoufand  herbs  his  art  difplay, 

A  thoufand  flowers  between  i  XI. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  71 

XL 
Tall  oaks  for  future  navys  grow, 

Fair  Albion's  beft  defence, 
While  corn  and  vines  rejoice  below, 

Thofe  luxuries  of  fenfe. 

xir. 

|    The  bleating  flocks  his  paflure  feeds  : 
And  herds  of  larger  fize, 
That  bellow  thro'  the  Lindian  meads, 
His  bounteous  hand  fupplies. 

PART      IV. 
XIII. 

We  fee  the  Thames  carefs  the  fhores, 

He  guides  her  filver  flood  : 
While  angry  Severn  fvvells  and  roars, 
Yet  hears  her  ruler  God. 
XIV. 
The  rolling  mountains  of  the  deep 

Obferve  his  ftrong  command ; 
His  breath  can  raife  the  billows  fleet) 
Or  fink  them  to  the  fand. 
XV. 
Amidft  thy  watry  kingdoms,  Lor», 

The  finny  nations  play, 
And  fcaly  monfters  at  thy  word, 
Rulh  thro'  the  northern  fea„ 

PART      V. 
XVI. 
Thy  glories  blaze  all  nature  round, 

And  ftrike  the  gazing  fight, 
Thro'  Ikies,  andfeas,  and  folid  ground, 
With  terror  and  delight, 

G  XVlh 


74       LYRIC     POEMS.      Book  I. 

XVII. 
Infinite  ftrength  and  equal  ikill, 

Shine  thro'  the  worlds  abroad, 
Our  fouls  with  vaft  amazement  fill 

And  fpeak  the  builder  God. 
XV1I1. 
But  the  fweet  beauties  of  tby  grace* 

Our  fofter  paffions  move  ; 
Pity  divine  in  J ES  US  face. 

We  fee,  adore,  and  love. 


God's  Absolute  Dominion 


LO  RD,  when  my  thoughtful  foul  furvey* 
Fire,  air,  and  earth,  and  ftars  and  feas, 

I  call  them  all  my  flaves  ; 
Commiffion'd  by  my  father's  will, 
Poifons  fhall  cure,  or  balms  fhall  kill ; 

Vernal  funs,  or  Zephyr's  breath, 
May  burn  or  blaft  the  plants  to  death 

That  fharp  December  faves. 

What  can  winds  or  planets  boaft 

Eut  a  precarious  pow'r  ? 
The  fun  is  all  in  darknefs  loft, 
Froft  fhall  be  fire,  and  fire  be  froft, 

When  he  appoints  the  hour. 
II. 
Lo,  the  Norwegians  near  the  polar  fky 

Chafe  their  frozen  limbs  with  fnow, 

Their  frozen  limbs  awake  and  glow, 

The  vital  flame  touch'd  with  a  ftrange  fupply 
Rekindles,  for  the  Gon  of  life  is  nigh  ; 
He  bids  the  vital  flood  in  wonted  circles  flow. 

Cold 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  75 

Cold  fteel  expos' d  to  northern  air, 
Drinks  the  meridian  fury  of  the  midnight  Eear, 
And  burns  th'  unwary  ftranger  there. 

iii. 

Enquire,  my  foul,  of  ancient  fame, 
Look  back  two  thoufand  years,  and  fee 
Th'  Affyrian  prince  transform'd  a  brute, 
For  boafting  to  be  abfolute  : 
Once  to  his  court  the  Goo  oflfrael  came,! 
A  King  more  abfolute  than  he. 
I  fee  the  furnace  blaze  with  rage 
Sevenfold  :  I  fee  amidft  the  flame 
Three  Hebrews  of  immortal  name 
They  move,   they  walk  acrofs  the  burning  flage 
Unhurt  and  fearlefs  while  the  tyrant  flood 
A  ftatue  ;  fear  congeal'd  hisblocd  : 
Nor  did  the  raging  element  dare 
Attempt  their  garments,  or  their  hair  ; 
Ttknev/the  Lord  ol  nature  there. 
Nature,  compell'd  by  a  fuperior  caufe, 
Nov/  breaks  her  own  eternal  laws 
Now  feemsto  break  them,  and  obeys 
Her  Sovereign  King  in  different  ways. 
Father,  how  bright  thy  glories  fhlne  ! 
How  broad  thy  kingdom,  how  divine! 
Nature,  and  miracle,  and  fate,  and  chance  are  thine. 
IV. 
Hence  from  my  heart  ye  idols  'nee, 
Ye  founding  names  of  vanity  ! 
No  more  my  lips  fhall  facrifke 
To  chance  and  nature,  tales  and  lies  : 
Creatures  without  a  God  can  yield  me  no  fapplies. 
What  is  the  fun,  or  what   the  fhade 
Or  frofb,  or  flames,  to  kill  or  fave  ? 


76         LYRIC  POEMS,  Book  I. 

His  favour  is  my  life,  his  lips  pronounce  me  dead  ; 
And  as  his  awful  dictates  bid, 
Earth  is  my  mother,  or  my  grave. 


Condescending  Grace. 

In  Imitation  of  the  114th  Pfalm., 

TTTKEN  the  Eternal  bows  the  ikies, 

**     To  vifit  earthly  things, 
With  fcorn  divine  he  turns  his  eyes 
From  towers  of  haughty  kings  ; 
II. 
Rides  on  a  cloud  difdainful  by 

A  Sultan,  or  a  Czar, 
Laughs  at  the  worms  that  rife  10  high, 
Or  frowns  'em  from  afar  ; 
HI. 
He  bids  his  awful  chariot  roil 

Far  downward  from  the  ikies, 
To  viGt  every  humble  foul, 
With  yikafure  in  his  eyes. 
IV. 
Why  fhould  the  Lord  that  reigns  above 

Bifdain  fo  lofty  kings  ? 
Sny,  Loud,  and  why  fuch  looks  of  love 
Upon  fuch  worthlefs  tilings ; 
V. 
Mortals,  be  dumb  ;  what  creature  dares 

Difpute  his  awful  will ? 
Aik  no  account  of  his  affairs, 
Eut  tremble,  and  be  ft  ill. 

VI. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c. 
vt. 

Ju$  like  his  nature  is  his  grace, 

All  fovereign,  and  all  free  ; 
Great  God,  how  fear  chiefs  are  thy  ways! 

How  deep  thy  judgments  be  ! 


The  Infinite. 

I. 

SOME  feraph,  lend  your  heavenly  tongue, 
Or  harp  of  golden  firing, 
That  I  may  raife  a  lofty  fong 
To  our  eternal  king. 

II: 
Thy  names,  how  infinite  they  be  ! 

Great  Everlasting  One! 
Boundlefs  thy  might  and  majefry, 
And  unconfin'd  thy  throne. 
III. 
Thy  glories  fhine  of  wondrous  fize, 
And  wondrous  large  thy  grace  ; 
Immortal  day  breaks  from  thine  eyes,. 
And  Gabriel  veijs  his  face. 
IV. 
Thine  effence  is  a  vaft  abyfs^ 
Which  angels  cannot  found, 
An  ocean  of  infinities 

Where  all  our  thoughts  are  drown'd. 
V. 
The  myfberies  of  creation  lie 

Beneath  enlighten'd  minds, 
Thoughts  can  afcend  above  the  fky, 
And  fly  before  the  winds. 

^  G  5  VT, 


78         LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  I, 

VI. 

Reafon  may  grafp  the  maffy  hills, 

And  ftretch  from  pole  to  pole, 
But  half  thy  name  our  fpirit  fills, 

And  overloads  our  foul. 
VII. 
In  vain  our  haughty  reafon  fvvells, 

For  nothing's  found  in  Thee, 
Eut  boundlefs  unconceivables; 

And  vaft  eternity. 


Confession  and  Pardon, 

I. 

ALAS  my  aking  heart ! 
Here  the  keen  torment  lies  ; 
It  racks  my  waking  hours  with  fmart, 
And  frights  my  flumbring  eyes.. 

II. 
Guilt  will  be  hid  no  more, 
My  griefs  take  vent  apace, 
The  crimes  that  blot  my  confciencc  o'er, 
Flufh  crimfon  in  my  face. 
III. 
My  forrows,  like  a  flood, 
Impatient  of  reftraint, 
Into  thy  bofom,  O  my  God, 
Pour  out  a  long  complaint: 

IV. 
This  impious  heart  of  mine, 
Could  once  defy  the  Lord, 
Gould  rufh  with  violence  on  to  fin, 
In  pretence  of  thy  fword. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  79 

v. 

How  often  have  I  flood, 

A  rebel  to  the  fkies, 
The  calls,  the  tenders  of  a  God, 

And  mercy's  loudeft  cries ! 
VI. 

He  offers  all  his  grace, 

And  all  his  heaven  to  me ; 
Offers!  But  'tis  to  fenfelefs  brafs, 

That  cannot  feel  nor  fee. 
VII. 

JESUS  the  Saviour  ftands, 

To  court  me  from  above, 
And  looks  andfpreads  his  wounded  hands, 

And  fhews  the  prints  of  love. 
VIII. 

But  I,  a  flupid  fool, 

How  long  have  I  withfcood, 
The  bleffiflgs  purchas'd  with  his  foul, 

And  paid  for  all  in  blood  ? 
IX. 

The  heav'nly  dove  came  down, 

And  tender'd  me  his  wings, 
To  mount  me  upward  to  a  crown, 

And  bright  immortal  things. 
X. 

Lord,  I'm  afham'd  to  fay, 

That  I  refus'd  thy  dove, 
And  fent  thy  fpirit  griev'd  away, 

To  his  own  realms  of  love. 
XI. 

Not  all  thine  heav'nly  charms, 

Nor  terrors  of  thy  hand, 
Could  force  me  to  lay  down  my  arms, 

And  bow  to  thy  command, 

XII, 


80     LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  I. 

XII. 

I.o^d,  'tisagainft  thy  face, 
My  fins  like  arrows  rife, 
And  yet,  and  yet  (O  matchlcfs  grace  !) 
Thy  thunder  filent  lies. 

XIII. 
O  fhall  I  never  feel 
The  meltings  of  thy  love? 
Am  I  of  fuch  hell-harden'd  fled, 
That  mercy  cannot  move  ? 
Xt'V. 
Now  for  one  powerful  glance, 
Dear  Saviour y  from  thy  face  ! 
This  rebel  heart  no  more  withfhands, 
But  finks  beneath  thy  grace. 

XV. 
O'ereome  by  dying  love  1  fall, 
Here  at  thy  crofs  I  lie, 
And  throw  my  fitfh,  my  foul,  my  all, 
And  weep,  and  love,   srtd  die. 
XVI. 
"  Rife,  fays  the  prince  of  mercy,  rife, 
"  With  joy  and  pity  in  his  eyes  : 
"  Rife,  and  behold  my  wounded  veins, 
11  Here  flows  the  blood  to  wafh  thy  fains. 

XVII. 
"  See  my  great  father  reconcil'd :" 
Hefaid.     Andlo,  the  father  fmil'd; 
The  joyful  cherubs  clapp'd  the  wings, 
And  founded  grace  on  all  their  firings-. 


Youk« 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  81 

Young    Men  and   Maidens,  Old    Men 
and  Babes,  Praise    ye    the   LORD, 
Pfalm  cxlviii.   12. 

SONS  of  Adam  bold  and  young, 
In  the  wild  mazes  of  whofe  veins, 
A  flood  of  fiery  vigour  reigns, 
And  weilds  your  aciive  limbs,  with  hardy  fkrews 
ftrung ; 
Fall  proftrate  at  the  eternal  throne, 
"Whence  your  precarious  pow'rs  depend ; 
.Nor  fwell  as  if  your  lives  were  all  your  own, 

But  chocfe  your  maker  for  your  friend  ; 
His  favour  is  your  life,  his  arm  is  your  fupport, 
His  arm  can  ftretch  your  days,  or  cut  your  minute,* 
ihort. 

Virgins,  who  roll  your  artful  eyes, 
And  ihoot  delicious  danger  thence, 
Swift  the  lovely  lightning  flies, 
And  melts  our  reafon  down  to  fenfe; 
Boaft  not  of  thofe  withering  charms 
That  muft  yield  their  youthful  grace. 
To  age  and  wrinkles,  earth  and  worms  ; 
But  love  the  author  of  your  fmiling  face; 
I  That  heav'nly  bridegroom  claims   your   blooming 
hours  ; 
O  make  it  your  perpetual  care 
To  pleafe  that  everlafting  fair  ; 
His  beauties  are  the  fun,  and  but  the  fhade  is  yours, 
III. 
Infants,  whofe  different  deftinies 
Are  wove  with  threads  of  different  fize  :         Bat 


82         LYRIC  POEMS,      Book  I. 

But  from  the  fame  fprlng-tkle  of  tears, 
Commence  your  hopes,  and  joys  and  fears, 
(A  tedious  train  !)  and  date  your  following  years : 
Break  your  firft  filence  in  his  praife 

Who  wrought  your  wondrous  frame  : 
With  founds  of  tendereft  accent  raife 
Young  honours  to  his  name  ; 
And  confederate  your  early  days 
To  know  the  pow'r  fupreme. 

IV. 
Ye  heads  of  venerable  age, 
Juft  marching  off  the  mortal  ftage, 
Fathers,  whofe  vital  threads  are  fpun  ; 
As  long  as  e'er  the  glafs  of  life  would  run, 

Adore  the  hand  that  led  your  way 
Thro'  flow'ry  fields  a  fair  longfummer's  day  ; 
Gafp  out  your  foul  in  praifes  to  the  fovereign  pow'r 
That  fet  your  weft  fo  diftant  from  your  dawning 
hour. 


Flying  Fowl  and   creeping  Things 

PRAISE    YE     THE     LORD,    Pfal.  clxVlH.    10. 

I. 

SWEET  flocks,  whofe  foft  ennamel'd  wing 
Swift  and  gently  cleaves  the  fey  ; 
Whofe  charming  notes  addrefs  the  Jpring 
With  an  artlefs  harmony. 
Lovely  minftrels  of  the  field, 
Who  in  leafy  fhadows  fit, 
And  your  wondrous  flruclures  build, 
Awake  your  tuneful  voices  with  the  dawning  light; 

To 


Sacred- to  Devotion,  &c.  83 

To  nature's  God  yourfirft  devotions  pay, 

E'er  you  faiute  the  riling  day, 
i  'Tis  he  calls  up  the  fun,  and  gives  him  every  r^y. 
II. 
Serpents,  who  o'er  the  meadows  Aide, 
And  wear  upon  your  mining  back 
Num'rous  ranks  of  gaudy  pride, 
Which  thoufand  mingling  colours  make  ; 
Let  the  fierce  glances,  of  your  eyes 
Rebate  their  baleful  fire  : 
In  harmlefs  play  twift  and  unfold 
The  volumes  of  your  fcaly  gold  : 
That  rich  embroidery  of  your  gay  attire, 
Proclaims  your  Maker  kind  and  wife, 

III. 
Infecls  and  mites,  of  mean  degree, 
That  fwarm  in  Myriads  o'er  the  land, 
Moulded  by  wifdom's  artful  hand, 
And  curl'd  and  painted  with  a  various  dye ; 
In  your  innumerable  forms 
Praife  him  that  wears  th'  ethereal  crown, 
And  bends  his  lofty  counfels  down 
To  defpicable  worms. 


The  Comparison  and  Complaint, 

I. 

INFINITE  power,  eternal  Lord, 
How  fovereign  is  thy  hand  ! 
Sj$t  nature  rofe  t'obey  thy  word, 
And  moves  at  thy  command: 
II. 
►Vith  fteady  courfe  thy  fhining  fun 
Keeps  his  appointed  way  ;  And 


84      LYRIC    POEMS, 

And  all  the  hours  obedient  run 

The  circle  of  the  day. 
III. 
But  ah  !  how  wide  my  fpirit  flies, 

And  wanders  from  her  God  ! 
My  foul  forgets  the  heavenly  prize, 

And  treads  the  downward-road. 
IV. 
The  raging  fire,  and  ftormy  fea, 

Perform  their  awful  will, 
And  every  beaft  and  every  tree, 

Thy  great  defigns  fulfil : 
V. 
While  my  wild  paffions  rage  within, 

Nor  thy  commands  obey  ; 
And  flefh  and  fenfe,  enflav'd  to  fin, 

Draw  my  beft  thoughts  r.way. 
VI. 
Shall  creatures  of  a  meaner  frame 

Pay  all  their  dues  to  thee ; 
Creatures,  that  never  knew  thy  name, 

That  never  lov'd  like  me  ? 
VH. 
Great  God  create  my  foul  anew, 

Conform  my  heart  to  thine, 
Melt  down  my  will,  and  let  it  flow, 

And  take  the  mould  divine. 
VIII. 
Seize  my  whole  frame  into  thy  hand; 

Here  all  my  pow'rs  I  bring  ; 
Manage  the  wheels  by  thy  command, 

And  govern  every  fpring. 
IX. 
Then  fhall  my  feet  no  more  depart, 

Nor  wandring  fenfes  rove  j 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  85 

Devotion  fhaU  be  all  my  heart, 
And  all  my  paffions  love. 
X. 
Then  not  the  fun  fhall  more  than  I 

His  maker's  law  perform, 

Nor  travel  fwifter  thro'  the  fky, 

Nor  with  a  zeal  fo  warm. 


God  Supreme  and  Self-sufficient, 


WH  A  T  is  our  God,  or  what  his  name, 
Nor  men  can  learn,  nor  angels  teach  ; 
[  He  dwells  conceal'd  in  radiant  flame, 
!  Where  neither  eyes  nor  thoughts  can  reach, 

II. 
;  The  fpacious  worlds  of  hcav'nly  light, 

Compar'd  with  him,  how  fhort  they  fall ! 
!  They  are  too  dark,  and  he  too  bright, 
Nothing  are  they,  and  God  is  all. 
III. 
1  He  fpoke  the  wondrous  word,  and  lo  ! 

Creation  rofe_at  his  command  : 
■  Whirlwinds  and  feas  their  limits  know, 
f  Bound  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

IV. 
[,  There  refts  the  earth,  there  roll  the  fpheres, 
\  There  nature  leans,  and  feels  her  prop  : 
But  his  own  felf-fufficience  bears 
The  weight  of  his  own  glories  up. 

V. 
The  tide  of  creatures  ebbs  and  flows, 
Meafuring  their  changes  by  the  moon  : 

H  No 


86      LYRIC     POEMS,      Book  I. 

No  ebb  his  fea  of  glory  knows; 
His  age  is  one  eternal  noon. 

VI. 
Then  fly,  my  fong,  an  endlefs  round, 
The  lofty  tune  let  Michael  raife ; 
All  nature  dwell  upon  the  found, 
But  we  can  ne'er  fulfil  the  praife. 


JESUS  the  only  Saviour. 

I. 

AD  A  M,  our  father,  and  our  head 
Tranfgreft ;   and  juftice  doom'd  us  dead  : 
The  fiery  law  fpeaksall  defpair, 
There's  no  reprieve,  nor  pardon  there. 

II. 
Call  a  bright  council  in  the  ikies ; 
**  Seraphs  the  mighty  and  the  wife, 
"  Say,  what  expedient  can  you  give, 
"  That  fin  be  damn'd,  and  finners  live  ? 

III. 
"  Speak  are  you  ftrong  to  bear  the  load, 
"  The  weighty  vengeance  cf  a  God  ? 
M  Which  of  you  loves  our  wretched  race, 
"  Or  dares  to  venture  in  our  place  ?" 

IV. 
In  vain  we  aft: ;  for  all  around 
Stands  filence  thro'  the  heavenly  ground  : 
There's  not  a  glorious  mind  above 
Kas  half  the  ftrength,  or  half  the  love. 

y 

But,  O  unutterable  grace  ! 

Th'  eternul  SON  takes  Adam's  place  : 

Down  to  our  world  the  Saviour  flies, 

Stretchei  his  naked  arms,  and  dies.  VI. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  %7 

VI. 

Juflice  waspleas'd  to  bruife  the  Goo, 
And  pay  its  wrongs  with  heavenly  blood ; 
What  unknown  racks  arid  pangs  he  bore ! 
Then  rofe  :  the  law  could  afk  no  more. 

VII. 
Amazing  work !  look  down,  ye  ikies, 
Wonder  and  gaze  with  all  your  eyes ; 
Ye  heavenly  thrones,  ftoop  from  above, 
And  bow  to  this  myfterious  love. 

VIII. 
See,  how  they  bend  !  See  how  they  look  I 
Long  they  had  read  th'  eternal  book, 
And  ftudied  dark  decrees  in  vain, 
The  crofs  and  Calvary  makes  them  plain. 

IX. 
Now  they  are  ftruck  with  deep  amaze, 
Each  with  his  wings  conceals  his  face  ; 
Nor  clap  theirfounding  plumes,  and  cry, 
Tie  ivlfdom  of  a  DE1TT! 

Low  they  adore  th'  Incarnate  Son, 
And  fing  the  glories  he  hath  won ; 
Sing  how  he  broke  our  iron  chains, 
How  deep  he  funk,  how  high  he  reigns. 

XI. 
Triumph  and  reign,  victorious  Loud, 
By  all  thy  flaming  hofts  ador'd  ; 
And  fay,  dear  Conqueror,  fay,  how  long, 
E'er  we  fhall  rife  to  join  their  fong  ? 

XII. 
Lo,  from  afar  the  promis'd  day 
Shines  with  a  well-diftinguifh'd  ray  ; 
But  my  wing'd  paffion  hardly  bears 
Thefe  lengths  of  flow  delaying  years. 

X1IL 


88         LYRIC  POEMS,  Book  I. 

Xill. 

Send  down  a  chariot  from  above, 
With  fiery  wheels,  and  pav'd  with  love  ; 
Raife  me  beyond  th'  ethereal  blue, 
To  ling  and  love  as  angels  do. 


Looking  Upward, 

I. 

TH  E  heavens  invite  mine  eye, 
The  ftars  falute  me  round; 
Father,  I  blufh,  I  mourn  to  lie 
Thus  groveling  on  the  ground. 

II. 

My  warmer  fpirits  move, 

And  make  attempts  to  fly; 

I  wifh  aloud  for  wings  of  love 

To  raife  me  fwift  on  high. 

III. 
Beyond  thofe  cryftal  vaults, 
And  all  their  fparkling  balls ; 
They're  but  the  porches  to  thy  courts, 
And  paintings  of  thy  walls. 

IV. 
Vain  world,  farewell  to  you ; 
Heaven  is  my  native  air; 
I  bid  my  friends  afhort  adieu, 
Impatient  to  be  there. 

V. 
I  feel  my  powers  releaft 
From  their  old  Study  clod ; 
Fair  guardian  bear  me  up  in  hafbe 
And  let  me  near  my  Gcd. 


Christ 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  89 


Christ  dying,  rising  and  reigning, 


HE  dies     the  heav'nly  lover  dies  ! 
The  tidings  flrike  a  doleful  found 
On  my  poor  heart-firings  :   deep  he  lies 
In  the  cold  caverns  of  the  ground. 

II. 
Come,  faints,  and  drop  a  tear  or  two 
On  the  dearbofoniof  your  God, 
He  fhed  a  thoufand  drops  for  you, 
A  thoufand  drops  of  richer  blood. 

III. 
Here's  love  and  grief  beyond  degree, 
The  Lord  of  glory  dies  for  men  ! 
But  lo,  what  fudden  joys  I  fee  ! 
JESUS  the  dead  revives  again. 

IV. 
The  rifing  God  forfakes  the  tomb, 
Up  to  his  father's  court  he  fiies ; 
Cherubic  legions  guard  him  home, 
And  fhout  him  welcome  to  the  ikies. 

V. 
Break  off  your  tears,  ye  faints,  and  tell 
How  high  our  great  deliverer  reigns  ; 
Sing  hew  hefpoil'd  the  hofis  of  hell, 
And  led  the  monfter  death  in  chains. 

VI. 
Say.,   Live  for  ever,  tvoruhous  King  ! 
Born  to  redeem,  undftrong  iofave  ! 
Then  afk  the  monfter,  Where's  ihejiing  t 
And  ivhere's  iby  viclory,  bcajling  grai;t  ? 


H  ,q  The 


t9o        LYRIC  POEMS,      Book  I. 

The  GOD  of  Thunber. 

OThe  immenfe,  the  amazing  height, 
The  boundlefr  grandeur  of  our  G«d, 
Who  treads  the  worlds  beneath  his  feet, 
And  fways  the  nations  with  his  nod. 

II. 
He  fpeaks  ;   and  lo,  all  nature  fhakes, 
Keav'n's  tverlafting  pillows  bov/  ; 
He  rends  the  clouds  witft  hideous  cracks, 
And  ihoot»  his  fiery  arrows  through. 

HI. 
Well,  let  the  nations  ftart  and  fly 
At  the  blue  lightning'  s  horrid  glare, 
Athciits  and  emperors  (hunk  and  cde, 
When  flame  and  uoSe.  toiment  the  air. 

IV. 

Xet  noife  and.fli;me  confound  the  Ikies, 

And  drown  the  fpacious  realms  below, 

Yet  will  we  fing  the  Thunderer's  praife, 

And  ftnd  our  loud  Hofr.nnas  through. 

V. 
Celeftial  King,  thy  blazing  power, 
Kindles  our  hearts  to  flaming  joys, 
We  fhout  to  hear  thy  thunders  roar, 
And  echo  to  our  father's  voice. 

VI. 
Thus  (hall  the  God  our  Saviour  come, 
And  lightnings  round  his  chariot  play, 
Ye  lightnings,  fly  to  make  him  room, 
Ye  glorious  ftorms,  prepare  hi*  way. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  91 

The   Day   of  Judgment. 

An  ODE:   Attempted  in  Englilh  Sapphick. 
I. 

WHEN  the  fierce  north  wind  with  his  airy  forces, 
Rears  up  the  Baltic  to  a  foaming  fury  : 
And  the  red  lightning  like  a  ftorm  of  haii  comes 

Rulhing  amain  down. 
II. 
How  the  poor  Tailors  ftand  amaz'd,  and  tremble! 
While  the  hoarfe  thunder,   like  a  bloody  trumpet, 
Roars  a  loud  onfet  to  the  gaping  waters 

Quick  to  devour  them. 
III. 
Such  fhall  the  noife  be,  and  the  wild  diforder, 
(If  things  eternal  may  be  like  thcfe  earthly) 
Such  the  dire  terror  when  the  great  archangel 

Shakes  the  creation, 
IV. 
Tears  the  ftrong  pillars  of  the  vault  of  heaven, 
Breaks  up  old  marble,  the  repofe  of  princes, 
See  the  graves  open,  and  the  bones  arifing, 

Flames  all  around  'em. 
V. 
Hark,  the  fhrill  outcries  of  the  guilty  wretches ! 
Lively  bright  horror,  and  amazing  anguifh, 
Stare  thro'  their  eye-lids  while  the  living  worm  lies 
Gnawing  within  them. 
VI. 
.  Thoughts  like  old  vultures,  prey  upon  their  heart 
firings, 
And  the  fmart  twinges,  when  the  eye  beholds  the 
Lofty  j  udge  frowning,  and  a  flood  of  vengeance 

Roiling  afore  him. 
VII. 


•92       LYRIC     POEMS.      Book  I. 

VII. 
Hopelefs  immortals  !  how  they  fcream  and  fniver, 
While  devil?  pufh  them  to  the  pit  wide-yawning 
Hideous  and  gloomy,  to  receive,  them  headlong 

Down  to  the  centre. 
VIII. 
Stop  here  my  fancy  :   (all  away  ye  horrid 
Doleful  ideas,)  come  arifo  to  JESUS, 
Kow  he  fits  God-like  !  and  the  faints  around  him 

Thron'd  yet  adoring. 
IX. 
O  may  I  fit  there  when  he  comes  triumphant, 
Dooming  the  nation: !  then  afcend  to  glory, 
While  our  hofannas  all  along  the  paffage 

Shout  the  Redeemer. 


The  Song  of  Angels  above, 


EARTH  has  detain'd  me  prifoner  long, 
And  I'm  grown  weary  now : 
My  heart,  my  hand,  my  ear,  my  tongue, 
There's  nothing  here  for  you. 
II. 
Tir'din  my  thonghts  I  ftretch  me  down, 

And  upward  glance  mine  eyes. 
Upward  (my  father)  to  thy  throne, 
And  to  my  native  ikies. 
III. 
There  the  dear  man  my  Saviour  fits, 
The  God,  how  bright  he  fhines  1 
And  fcatters  infinite  delights 
On  ail  the  happy  minds. 

IV. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         93 

IV. 

Seraphs  with  elevated  {trains 

Circle  the  throne  around, 
And  move  and  charm  the  ftarry  plains 
With  an  immortal  found. 
V. 
JESU3  the  Lord,  their  harps  employs, 

JESUS  my  love  they  fmg, 
JESUS  the  name  of  both  our  joys 
Sounds  fweet  from  every  fixing. 
VI. 
Hark  how  beyond  the  narrow  bounds* 

Of  time  and  fpace  they  run, 
And  fpeakin  moft  majeftick  founds, 
The  Godhead  of  the  Son. 
VII. 
How  on  the  Father's  breaft  he  lay, 

The  darling  of  his  foul, 
Infinite  years  before  the  day 
Or  heavens  began  to  roll: 
VIII. 
And  now  they  fink  the  lofty  tone, 

And  gentler  notes  they  play, 
And  bring  th'  eternal  Godhead  dows 
To  dwell  in  humble  clay. 
IX. 
O  facred  Beauties  of  the  Man  ! 

(The  God  refides  within) 
His  flefh  all  pure,  without  a  {lain, 
His  foul  without  a  fin. 
X. 
Then,  how  he  look'd,  and  how  he  fmil'd, 

What  wondrous  things  he  faid  ! 
Sweet  cherubs,  ftay,  dwell  here  a  while, 

And  tell  what  JESUS  did,  XI. 


94        LYRIC   POEMS,    Book  I. 

XI. 

At  his  command  the  blind  awake, 

And  feel  the  gladfom  rays  ; 
He  bids  the  dumb  attempt  to  fpeak, 

They  try  their  tongues  in  praifc. 
XII. 
He  fhed  a  thoufand  bleffings  round 

Where'er  he  turn'd  his  eye  : 
He  fpoke,  and  at  the  fovereign  found 

The  hcllifh  legions  fly. 

XIII: 
Thus  while  with  unambitious  ftrife 

Th'  ethereal  minftrels  rove 
Thro'  all  the  labours  of  his  life, 

And  wonders  of  his  love. 
XIV. 
In  the  full  choir  a  broken  firing 

Groans  with  a  ftrange  furpfife ; 
The  reft  in  Clence  mourn  their  King," 

That  bleeds,  and  loves,  and  dies. 
XV. 
Seraph  and  faint  with  drooping  wings, 

Ceafe  their  harmonious  breath; 
No  blooming  trees,  nor  bubbling  fprings, 

While  JESUS  fieeps  in  death. 
XVI. 
Then  all  at  once  to  living  ftrains 

They  fummon  every  chord, 
Break  up  the  tomb,  and  burft  his  chains, 

Andfhew  their  rifing  Lord. 
XVII. 
Around  the  flaming  army  throngs 

To  guard  him  to  the  Ikies, 
With  loud  Hofannas  on  their  tongues, 

And  triumph  in  their  eyes. 

XVIIL 


I        Sacred  to  Devotion,  Sec,          95 
XVIII. 
awful  flate  the  conquering  Go© 
Afceiids  his  mining  throne, 
While  tuneful  angels  found  abroad 
The  vicVries  he  has  won. 
XIX. 
Now  let  me  rife,  and  join  their  fcr.g, 

And  be  an  angel  too  ; 
My  heart,  my  hand,  my  ear,  my  tongue, 
Here's  joyful  work  for  you. 
XX. 
I  would  begin  the  mufick  hqre, 
And  fo  my  foul  fhould  rife  : 
Oh  for  fome  heavenly  notes  to  bear 
My  fpirit  to  the  Ikies ! 

XXI. 
There,  ye  that  love  my  Saviour,  fit, 

There  I  would  fain  have  place, 
Amongft  your  thrones,  or  at  your  feet, 
So  I  might  fee  his  face. 

XXII. 
I  am  confin'd  to  earih  no  more, 

But  mount  in  hafle  above, 

To  blefs  the  God  that  I  adore, 

And  fins:  the  Man. I  love, 


Fire,  Air,.  Earth  and  Sea.  p  raise  ye 
the    LORD. 

1. 

Tp'AR  TH,  thou  great  fcotftool  of  our  Gob 
^~/  Who  reigns  on  high  ;  thou  fruitful  fource 
Of  all  our  raiment,  life  and  food  ; 
Our  houfe,  our  parent,  and  our  nurfe  ; 

Mighty 


96     LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  I. 

Mighty  Stage  of  mortal  fcencs, 
Dreft  with  ftrong  and  gay  machines, 
Hung  with  golden  lamps  around  ; 
(And  flow'ry  carpets  fpread  the  ground) 
Thou  bulky  globe,  prodigious  mafs, 
That  hangs  unpillar'd  in  an  empty  fpace  ! 
While  thy  unwieldy  weight  refts  on  the  feeble  air, 
Blefs  that  almighty  word  that  fix'd  and  holds  thee 
there. 

II. 
Fire,  thou  fwift  herald  of  his  face, 
Whofe  glorious  rage,  at  his  command, 
Levels  a  palace  with  the  fand, 
Blending  the  lofty  fpires  in  ruin  with  the  bafe  : 
Ye  heav'nly  flames,  that  finge  the  air, 
Artillery  of  a  jealous  God. 
Bright  arrows  that  his  founding  quivers  bear 

To  fcatter  deaths  abroad  ; 
Lightnings,  adore  the  fovereign  arm  that  flings 
His  vengeance ,  and  your  fires,  upon  the  heads  of 
kings. 

III. 
Thou  vital  element,  the  Airy 
Whofe  boundlefs  magazines  of  breath 
Our  fainting  frame  of  life  repair, 
Andfave  the  bubble   man  from  the  cold  arms  of 

death  : 
And  ye,  whofe  vital  moifture  yields 

Life's  purple  ftream  a  frefh  fupply ;     • 
Sweet  waters  wandring  thro'  the  flow'ry  fields, 

Or  dropping  from  the  fky  , 
Confefs  the  pow'r  whofe  all-fufficient  name 
Nor  needs  your  aid  to  build,  or  to  fupport  our  frame. 
IV. 
Now  the  rude  air,  with  noify  force, 
Beats  up  and  fwells  the  angry  fea, 

They 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         97 

They  join  to  make  our  lives  a  prey, 

And  fweep  the  failors  hopes  away, 
Vain  hopes,  to  reach  their  kindred  on  the  fhores ! 

Lo,  the  wild  feas  and  furging  waves 

Gape  hideous  in  a  thoufand  graves  : 
Be  ftill,  ye  floods,  and  know  your  bounds  of  fand, 

Ye  ftorms,  adore  your  mafter's  hand ; 
The  winds  are  in  his  fill,  the  waves  at  his  command. 
V. 

From  the  eternal  emptinefs 

His  fruitful  word,  by  fecret  fprings 

Drew  the  whole  harmony  of  things 

That  form  this  noble  univerfe: 

Old  nothing  knew  his  pow'rful  hand, 

Scarce  had  he  fpoke  his  full  command, 
Tire,  air,  and  earth,  and  fea,  heard  the  creating  call, 
And  leap'd  from  empty  nothing  to  this  beauteous  all; 

And  ftill  they  dance,  and  ftill  obey 
The  orders  they  receiv'd  the  great  creation-day. 


The  Farewell. 

I. 

DEAD  be  my  heart  to  all  below, 
To  mortal  joys  and  mortal  cares 
To  fenfualblifs  that  charms  us  fo 
Be  dark,  my  eyes,  and  deaf,  my  ears. 

II. 
Here  I  renounce  my  carnal  tafte 
Of  the  fair  fruit  that  finners  prize : 
Their  paradife  mall  never  wafte 
One  thought  of  mine,  but  to  defpifc. 

III. 
All  earthly  joys  are  overweigh'd 
With  mountains  of  vesatious  care ; 

I  And 


98         LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  I. 

And  where's  the  fweet  that  is  not  laid 
A  bait  to  fome  deftru&ive  fnare  ? 

IV. 
Be  gone  for  ever,  mortal  things! 
Thou  mighty  mole-hill  earth,  farewell! 
Angels  afpire  on  lofty  wings, 
And  leave  the  globe  for  ants  to  dwell. 

V. 
Come  heaven  and  fill  my  vaft  dt fires, 
My  foul  purfues  the  fovereign  good  ; 
She  was  all  made  of  heavenly  fires, 
Nor  can  fhe  live  on  meaner  food. 


GOD     ONLY    KNOWN     TO    HIMSEIT. 


STAND  and  adore  !  how  glorious  He 
That  dwells  in  bright  eternity  ! 
We  gaze,  and  we  confound  our  fight 
Plung'd  in  th'  abyfs  of  dazzling  light. 

II. 
Thou  Sacred  One,  Almighty  Three, 
Great  everlafting  Mystery, 
What  lofty  numbers  fhall  we  fram« 
Equal  to  thy  tremendous  name  ? 

III. 
Seraphs,  the  neareft  to  the  throne, 
Begin,  and  fpeak  the  Great  Unknown  : 
Attempt  the  fong,  wind  up  your  firings, 
To  notes  untry'd,  and  boundkfs  things. 

IV. 
You,  whofe  capacious  pow'rs  furvey 
Largely  beyond  our  eyes  of  clay  : 
Yet  what  a  narrow  portion  too 
afeen,  or  known,  or  thought  by  you  ? 


Scared  to  Devotion,  &c.  99 

- 

V. 

How  flat  yeur  higheft  praifes  fall 
Below  th'  immenfe  Original  ! 
Weak  creatures  we,  that  ftrive  in  vain 
To  reach  an  uncreated  {train  ! 

VI. 
Great  God,  forgive  our  feebk  lay  s, 
Sound  out  thine  own  eternal  praife ; 
A  fong  fo  vail,  a  theme  fo  high, 
Calls  for  the  voice  that  tun'd  the  fky. 


Pardon  and  Sanctification. 


MY  crimes  awake  ;  and  hideous  fear 
Diftracls  my  refllefs  mind, 
Guilt  meets  my  eyes  with  horrid  glare, 
And  hell  purfues  behind. 
II. 
Almighty  vengeance  frowns  on  high, 

And  flames  array  the  throne  ; 
While  thunder  murmurs  round  the  fey. 
Impatient  to  be  gone. 

III. 
Where  fnall  I  hide  this  noxious  head  ; 

Can  rocks  or  mountains  fave  ? 
Or  flidll  I  wrap  me  in  the  fhade 
Of  midnight  and  the  grave  ? 

IV. 
Is  there  no  flicker  from  the  eye 

Of  a  revenging  Gob  ? 
JESUS,  to  thy  dear  wounds  I  fly, 
Bedew  me  with  thy  blood. 
I  a 


ico      LYRIC    POEMS,  Book  1, 
v. 

Thofe  guardian  drops  my  foul  fecure, 

And  warn  away  my  fin  ; 
Eternal  juftice  frowns  no  more, 

And  confcience  fmiles  within. 
VT. 
I  blcfs  that  wondrous  purple  ftream 

That  whitens  every  (lain  ; 
Yet  is  my  foul  but  half  redeem'd, 

If  fin  the  tyrant  reign. 
VII. 
Lord,  blafl  his  empire  with  thy  breath, 

That  curfed  throne  muft  fall  ; 
Ye  flattering  plagues,  that  work  my  death, 

Fly,  for  I  hate  you  all. 


Sovereignty  and  Grace. 

I. 

THE  Lord?  how  fearful  is  his  name  ? 
How  wide  is  his  command  ? 
Nature,  with  all  her  moving  frame, 
Refts  on  his  mighty  hand. 
II. 
Immortal  glory  forms  his  throne, 

And  light  his  awful  robe  ; 
"Whilft  withafmile,  or  with  a  frown, 
He  manages  the  globe. 
III. 
A  word  of  his  almighty  breath 

Can  fwell  or  fink  the  feas  ; 
Euild  the  vaft  empires  of  the  earth, 
Or  break  them  as  he  pleafe. 


IV. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         101 
IV. 

Adoring  angels  round  him  fall 

In  all  their  mining  forms, 
His  fovereign  eye  looks  thro'  them  all, 
And  pities  mortal  worms. 
.  V. 
His  bowels,  to  our  worthlefs  race, 

fn  fweet  companion  move  ; 
He  deaths  his  looks  with  fofteft  grace, 
And  takes  his  title,  love. 
VI. 
Nov/  let  the  Lord  for  ever  reign, 

And  fway  us  as  he  will, 
Sick,  or  in  health,  in  eafe,  or  pain, 
We  are  his  favourites  full. 
VII. 
No  more  fhall  peevifh  paffion  rife, 
The  tongue  no  more  complain  ; 
*Tis  fovereign  love  that  lends  our  joys, 
And  love  refumes  again . 


The   Law  and   Gospel. 


"  I^URST  be  the  man,  for  ever  curlr, 
%^_j  "  That  doth  one  wilful  fin  commit ; 
t{  Death  and  damnation  for  the  nrft, 
"  Without  relief,  and  infinite." 

II. 
Thus  Sinai  roars ;  and  round  the  earth 
Thunder,  and  fire,  and  vengeance  Sings  ; 
But  JESUS,  thy  dear  gafping  breath, 
And  Calvary,  fay  gentler  things. 

i  3  m. 


102      LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  I. 
in. 

"  Paidon,  and  grace,  and  boundlefs  love, 
"  Streaming  along  a  Saviour's  blood, 
"  And  life,  and  joys,  and  crowns  above, 
"  Dcar-purchas'd  by  a  bleeding  God." 

IV. 
Hark,  how  he  prays,  (the  charming  found 
Dwells  on  his  dying  lips)  Forgive  ; 
And  every  groan,  and  gaping  wound, 
Cries,  "  Father,  let  the  rebels  live." 

V, 
Go,  you  that  reft  upon  the  law, 
And  toil,  and  feek  falvation  there, 
Look  to  the  flames  that  Mofes  faw, 
And  fhrink,  and  tremble,  and  defpair. 

VI. 
But  I'll  retire  beneath  the  crofs, 
Saviour,  at  thy  dear  feet  I  lie ; 
And  the  keen  fword  that  juftice  draws, 
Flaming  and  red,  fhall  pafs  me  by. 


Seeking  A  divine   Calm  in   a    restless 
World. 

O  mens,  qux  ftabili  fata  regis  vice,  &c. 

Cafimire,  Book  III.  Ode  %Z. 

I. 

ETERNAL  mind,  who  rul'ft  the  fates, 
Of  dying  realms,  and  rifing  dates, 
With  one  unchang'd  decree, 
While  we  admire  thy  vaft  affairs, 
Say,  can  our  little  triming  cares 
Afford  a  fmile  to  thee  ? 


Sacred  to  Devot ion,  Sst*  103 

II. 

Thou  fcattereft  honours,  crowns  and  gold  ; 
We  fly  to  feize,  and  fight  to  hold 

The  bubbles  and  the  ore  : 
So  emmets  ftruggle  for  a  grain  ;. 
So  boys  their  pretty  wars  maintain 

For  Ihells  upon  the  fhore. 
III. 
Here  a  vain  man  his  fcepter  breaks, 
The  next  a  broken  fcepter  takes, 

And  warriors  win  and  lofe  ; 
This  rolling  world  will  never  ftand, 
Plunder'd  and  fnatch'd  from  hand  to  hand. 

As  power  decays  or  grows. 
IV. 
Earth's  but  an  atom  :  greedy  fwords 
Carve  it  amongft  a  thoufand  lords, 

And  yet  they  can't  agree; 
Let  greedy  fwords  ftill  fight  and  flay, 
I  can  be  poor;  but,  Lord,  I  pray 

To  fit  and  fmile  with  thee* 


Happy   Frailty. 

"  TT  O  W  meanly  dwells  th'  immortal  mind  ? 

X.L  "  How  vile  thefe  bodies  are  ! 
*'  Why  was  a  clod  of  earth  defign'd 

"  T'  enclofe  a  heavenly  ftar  ? 
II. 
«'  Weak  cottage  where  our  fouls  refide  ! 

"  This  flefh  a  tott'ring  wall ; 
t(  With  frightful  breaches  gaping  wide 

*«  The  building  bends  to  fall. 

III. 


164     LYRIC    POL  M  S.    Book  I. 


in. 

"  All  round  it  dorms  of  trcuhle  blow, 

"  And  waves  of  forrow  roil  ; 
"  Cold  waves  and  winter  ftprms  beut  tkrc 

"  And  pain  the  tenant-foul. 
IV: 
<{  Alas  !  how  frail  our  ftate  !"  faid  I ; 

And  thus  went  mourning  on, 
Till  fudden  from  the  cleaving  fky 

A  gleam  oi  glory  fhone. 
V. 
My  foul  all  felt  the  glory  come, 

And  breath'd  her  native  air  ; 
Then  fh;  remember' d heaven  her  home, 

And  fne  a  prifoner  here. 
VI. 
Straight  fne  began  to  change  her  key, 

And  joyful  in  her  pains, 
She  fung  the  frailty  of  her  clay 

In  pleafurable  drains. 

VII. 
"  How  weak  the  Pris'n  is  where  I  dwell ! 

"  Flefh  but  a  tottering  wall, 
♦'  The  breaches  chearfully  foretell, 

"  The  houfe  muft  fhortly  fall. 
VIII. 
*'  No  more,  my  friends,  fhall  I  complain, 

"  Tho'  all  my  heart- firings  ake  ; 
c<  Welcome  difeafe,  and  every  pain, 

'*  That  makes  the  cottage  fhake. 
IX. 
"  Now  let  the  tempeft  blow  ell  round, 

*'  Now  fwell  thefurges  high, 
"  And  beat  this  houfe  of  bondage  down, 

tl  To  let  the  ftranger  fly. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  Sec,         T05 

X. 

:<  I  have  a  manfion  built  above 

"  By  the  eternal  hand  ; 
"  And  fhould  the  earth's  old  bafis  move 

"  My  heav'nly  houfe  rauft  ftand. 
XI. 
:{  Yes,  for  'tis  there  my  Saviour  reigns, 

"  (Hong  to  fee  the  God) 
"  And  his  immortal  ftrength  fuftains 

*'  The  courts  that  colt  him  blood. 
XII. 

I"  Hark  from  on  high  my  Saviour  calls; 
'*  I  come,  my  Lord,  my  Love." 
Devotion  breaks  the  prifon-walls, 
And  fpeeds  my  laft  remove. 


Launching  into  Eternity. 
ITT  was  a  brave  attempt !  advent'rqus  he, 
•*■    Who  in  the  flrft  fhip  broke  the  unknown  fea; 
And  leaving  his  dear  native  fhores  behind, 
Trufted  hisJife  to^the  licentious  wind. 
I  fee  the  furging  brine  :  the  tempeft  raves  :  •% 

He  on  a  pine-plank  rides  acrofs  the  waves,  C 

Exulting  on  the  edge  of  thoufand  gaping  graves  ;   j 
He  fteers  the  winged  boat,  and  fnifts  the  fails, 
Conquers  the  flood  and  manages  the  gales. 

Such  is  the  foul  that  leaves  this  mortal  land 
Fearlefs  when  the  great  mailer  gives  command. 
Death  is  the  ftorm  :  ihe  fmiies  to  hear  it  roar, 
And  bids  the  temp  eft  waft  her  from  the  more  : 
Then  with  a  ikilful  helni  Ihe  fweeps  the  feas, 
And  manages  the  raging  ftorm  with  eafe  : 
(Her  faith  can  govern  death  J  Ihe  fpreads  her  wings  ~) 
Wide  to  the  wind,  and  as  fhe  fails  fhe  ilngs,  ?• 

And  lofes  by  degrees  the  fight  o£  mortal  things.  J 

As 


io6     LYRIC     POEMS.      Bcok  I. 

As  the  fhoreslcffen,  fo  herjoys  arife, 
The  waves  roll  gentler,  and  the  tempeft  dies, 
Now  vaft  eternity  fills  all  her  fight,  -j 

She  floats  on  the  broad  deep  with  infinite  delight,    C 
The  feas  forever  calm,  the  ikies  forever  bright.      J 


A  Prospect   of  the  Resurrection. 

I. 

HOW  long  {hall  death  the  tyrant  reign  ; 
And  triumph  o'er  the  juft, 
While  the  rich  blood  of  Martyrs  flain 
Lies  mingled  with  the  daft  ? 
II. 
When  fhall  the  tedious  night  be  goae  t 

When  will  our  Lord  appear  ? 
Our  fond  defires  will  pray  him  down, 
Our  love  embrace  him  here. 
III. 
Let  faith  arife  and  climb  the  hills, 

And  from  afcr  dcfcry 
Howdiftant  are  his  chariot- wheels,. 
And  tell  how  fa  ft  they  fly. 
IV. 
Lo,  T  behold  the  featuring  fhades, 

The  dawn  of  heav'n  appears, 
The  fweet  immortal  morning  fpreads 
Its  blufhes  round  the  fpheres. 
V. 
I  fee  the  Lord  of  Glory  come, 
And  flaming  guards  around  : 
The  ikies  divide  to  make  him  room, 
The  trumpet  fhakes  the  ground. 

VI. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  107 

VI. 

i  hear  the  voice,  Ye  dead  arifey 

And  lo,  the  graves  obey, 
And  waking  faints  with  joyful  eyes 

Salute  th'  expecled  day. 
VII. 
They  leave  the  duft,  and  on  the  wing 

Rife  to  the  middle  air, 
In  fhining  garments  meet  their  king, 

And  low  adore  him  there. 
VIII. 
D  may  my  humble  fpirit  (land 

Amongfcthem  cloth'd  in  white  ! 
The  meaneft  Place  at  his  right  hand 

Is  infinite  delight. 

IX. 
How  will  our  joy  and  wonder  rife, 

When  our  returning  king 
Shall  bear  us  homeward  thro'  the  Ikies 

On  love's  triumphant  wing  ! 


Breathing    toward    the    heavenly 
Country. 

Cafimire,  Book  1,  Od.  19.  imitated, 
Urit  me  patris  decor,  &c. 

TH  E  beauty  of  my  native  land 
Immortal  love  inipires ; 
I  burn,  I  burn  with  ftrong  dellres, 
And  figh,  and  wait  the  high  command. 
There  glides  the  moon  her  mining  way, 
And  moots  my  heart  thro'  with  a  filver  ray, 
Upward  my  heart  afpires  : 


io8       LYRIC  POEMS,      Book  II 

A  thoufand  lamps  of  golden  light 
Hung  high,  in  vaulted  azure,  charm  my  fight, 
And  wink  and  beckon  with  their  amorous  fires. 
O  ye  fair  glories  of  my  heavenly  home, 

Bright  centinels  who  guard  my  father's  court, 
Where  all  the  happy  minds  refort, 
When  will  my  father's  chariot  come  ? 
Muft  ye  for  ever  walk  the  ethereal  round, 
Jor  ever  fee  the  mourner  lie 
An  exile  of  the  fky, 
A  prifoner  of  the  ground  ? 
Defcend  fome  mining  fervants  from  on  high, 
Build  me  a  hafty  tomb  ; 
A  graffy  turf  will  raife  my  head ; 
The  neighbouring  lillies  drefs  my  bed ; 

And  fhed  a  cheap  perfume. 
Here  I  put  off  the  chains  of  death, 

My  foul  too  long  has  worn  : 
Friends,  I  forbid  one  groaning  breath, 

Or  tear  to  wet  my  urn  ; 
Raphael,  behold  me  all  undreft, 
Here  gently  lay  this  flefh  to  reft  ; 
Then  mount,  and  lead  the  path  unknown, 
Swift  I  purfue  thee,  flaming  guide,  on  pinions  of 
jny  own. 


On  Saint  Ardalio,  who  from  a  Stage- 
Player  became    a    Christian,   and 

SUFFERED    MARTYRDOM. 

I. 

ARDALIO  jeers  and  in  his  comick  ftrains, 
The  myfteries  of  our  bleeding  God  profanes, 
While  his  loud  laughter  fhakes  the  painted  fcenes. 

II. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.        109 

II. 

Heaven  heard  and  ftrait  aroundthe  fmoaking  throne 
The  kindling  lightning  in  thick  fialhes  fhone. 
And  vengeful  thunder  murmur'dta  be  gone. 

III. 
Mercy  flood  near,  and  with  a  fmiling  brow 
Calm'd  the  loud  thunder  ;  "  there's  no  need  of  you; 
"  Grace  mail  defcend,  and  the  weak  man  iubdue. 

IV. 
Grace  leaves  the  ikies,  and  he  the  ftage  forfakes, 
He  bows  his  head  down  to  the  marryring  ax, 
And  as  he  bows,  his  gentle  farewel  fpeaks ; 

V. 
"  So  goes  the  comedy  of  life  away; 
«<  Vain  earth,  adieu  ;  heaven  will  applaud  to  day; 
"  Strike  courteous  tyrant,  and  conclude  the  play. 


When  the  Proteftant  Church  at  Montpelier  was 
demolijhed  by  the  French  King's  order,  the. 
Protejtants  laid  Stones  up  in  their  Burying 
place,  whereon  a  Jfefuit  made  a  Latin  Epi- 
gram. 

Englifhed  thus :' 

AKug'not  Church,  once  at  Montpelier  built, 
Stood  and  proclaim'd  their  madnefs  and  their 
guilt; 
Too  long  it  flood  beneath  heav'ns  angry  frown9 
Worthy  whenrifing,  to  be  thunder'ddown, 
Lewis,  at  laft,  th'  avenger  of  the  Ikies, 
Commands,  and  level  with  the  ground  it  lies  : 
The  flones  difpers'd  their  wretched  offspring  come, 
Gather,  and  heap  them  on  their  father'     omb, 

K  Thus 


no       LYRIC  POEMS,       Book  I. 

Thus  the  curs'd  houfe  falls  on  the  huilder's  head  ;  "} 
And  tho'  beneath  the  ground  their  bones  are  laid,  V 
Yet  the  juft  vengeance  ftill  putfues  the  guilty  dead. j 


The  An.syver  by  a  French  Protestant, 
Englifhcd  thus  : 

AChriftian  Church  once  at  IVTontpelier  flood, 
And  nobly  fpoke  the  builder's  zeal  for  G  00. 
It  flood  the  envy  of  the  fierce  dragoon, 
But  not  deferv'd  to  be  deftrcyed  f'o  foon  : 
Yet  Lewis,  the  wild  tyrant  of  the  age, 
Tears  down  the  walls,  a  victim  to  his  rage, 
Young  faithful  hands  pile  up  the  facred  ftones 
(Dear  monument!)  o'er  their  dead  father's  bones; 
The  ftcnes  fhall  move  when  the  dead  fathers  rife 
Start  up  before  the  pale  deftroyer's  eyes, 
And  teflify  his  madnefs  to  th'  avenging  fkies. 


Two  happy    Rivals,    Devotion    and 

the  Muse. 


WILD  as  the  lightning,  various  as  the  moon, 
Roves  my  Pindaric  fong  : 
Here  fhe  glows  like  burning  noon 
In  fierreft  flame?,  and  here  fhe  plays 
Gentle  as  Aar-heams  on  the  midnight  fea$; 
Now  in  a  fmiling  angel's  form, 
Anon  fhe  rides  upon  the  ftorm, 
Loud  as  the  noify  thunder  as  a  deluge  ftrong, 
Are  my  thoughts  and  wifhesfree, 

And 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c  mi 

And  know  no  number  nor  degree  ? 
Such  is  the  rnufe  :  lo  fne  difdtdns 

The  links  and  chains, 
Meafures  and  rules  of  vulgar  drains, 
And  o'er  the   laws  of  harmony  a  fovereign  queen 
fne  reigns. 

II. 
If  (he  roves 
By  ftreams  or  groves 
Turning  her  pleafures  on  her  pains, 
My  paffions  keeps  her  ftill  in  fight, 
My  paflion  holds  an  equal  Sight 
Thro1  love's,  or  nature's  wide  campaigns. 
If  with  bold  attempt  fne  fings 
Of  the  biggeft  mortal  things, 
Tottering  thrones  and  nations  flain  : 
Or  breaks  the  fleets  of  warring  king6, 
While  thunders  roar 
From  fhore  to  fhore, 
My  foul  fits  fait  upon  her  wings, 
And  fweeps  the  crimfon  furge,  or  fcours  the  purple 
plain  ; 
Still  1  attend  her  as  fhe  flies, 
Round  the  broad  globe,  and  all  beneath  the  ikies. 
III. 
But  when  from  the  meridian  ftar 

Long  ftreaks  of  glory  fhine, 
And  heaven  invites  her  from  afar, 
She  takes  the  hint,  fhe  knows  the  fign, 
The  mufe  afcends  her  heavenly  carr, 
And  climbs  the  fteepy  path  and  means  the  throne 
divine. 
Then  fhe  leaves  my  fiutt'ring  mind 
Clogg'd  with  clay,  and  unrefin'd, 
Lengths  of  diftance  far  behind. 

K  a  Virtue 


112     LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  I. 

Virtue  lags  with  heavy  wheel  •, 
Faith  has  wings,  but  cannot  rife, 

Cannot  rife, Swift  and  high 

As  the  winged  numbers  fiy, 
And  faint  devotion  panting  lies 
Half  way  th*  ethereal  hill. 
IV. 
O  why  is  piety  fo  weak, 

And  yet  the  mufe  fo  ftrong  ? 
When  fhali  thefe  hateful  fetters  break 

That  have  confin'd  me  long  ? 
Inwaid  a  glowmgheat  I  feci, 

A  fpark  of  heav'nly  day  ; 
But  earthly  vapours  damp  my  zeal, 
And  heavy  flefh  drags  me  the  downward  way. 

Faint  are  the  efforts  of  my  will, 
And  mortal  paffiens  charm  my  foul  aftray. 
Shine,  thou  fweet  hour  of  dearreleaft, 
Shine,  ficm  the  fky, 
And  call  me  high 
To  mingle  with  the  choirs  of  glory  and  of  blifs. 
Devotion  there  begins  the  flight, 
Awakes  the  fong  and  guides  the  way  ; 
There  love  and  zeal  divine  and  bright 
Trace  out  new  regions  in  the  world  of  light, 
And  fcr.rce  the  boldefl  mufe  can  follow  or  obey. 
V. 
I'm  in  a  dream,  and  fancy  reigns, 
She  fpreads  her  gay  delufive  fcenes  ; 

Or  is  the  vifion  true  ? 
Behold  religion  or  her  throne, 
In  awful  Itate  defcending  down, 
And  her  dominions  vaft  and  bright  within  my  fpaci- 
ous  view. 
She  fmiles,  and  with  a  courteous  hand 

She 


Saered  to  Devotion,  &c  113 

She  beckons  me  away  ; 
I  feel  mine  airy  powers  loofe  from  the  cumbrous  clay 
And  with  a  joyful  hafte  obey 
Religion  s  high  command. 
What  lengths  and  heighths  and  depths  unknown  ! 
Broad  fields  with  blooming  glory  fown, 
And  feas,  and  fides,  and  ftars  her  own, 

In  an  unmeafur'd  fphere  ! 
What  heavens  of  joy,  and  light  ferene, 
Which  nor  the  rolling  fun  has  feen, 
Where  nor  the  roving  mufe  has  been 
That  greater  traveller ! 
VI. 
A  long  farewel  to  all  below, 
Farewel  to  all  that  fenfe  can  fhow, 
To  golden  fcenes,  and  flow'ry  fields, 
To  all  the  worlds  that  fancy  builds-, 

And  all  that  poets  know. 
Now  the  fvvift  tranfports  of  the  mind 
Leave  the  fluttering  mufe  behind, 
A  thoufand  loofe  Pindaric  plumes  fly  featuring  do*yn 
the  wind. 
x^mongft  the  clouds  I  lofelny  breath, 

The  rapture  grows  too  flrong  : 
The  feeble  pow'rs  that  nature  gave 
Faint  and  drop  downward  to  the  grave  ; 
Receive  their  fall,  thou  treafurer  of  death  ; 
I  will  no  more  demand  my  tongue, 
Till  the  grofs  organ  well  refin'd 
Can  trace  the  boundlefs  flights  of  an  unfetter'd  mind 
Andraife  an  equal  fong^ 


K  3  The 


ii4     LYRIC     POEMS.      Book  I. 

The  following  Poems  of  this  Book  are    peculiarly 
dedicated  to  Divine  Love.* 

The  Hazard  of  loving  the  Creatures. 

I. 

WHERE  e'er  my  flatt'ring  paffions  rove 
I  find  a  lurking  fnare  ; 
'Tis  dangerous  to  let  loofe  our  love 
Beneath  th'  eternal  fair. 
II. 
Souls  whom  the  tye  of  friendfhip  binds, 

And  partners  of  our  blood, 
Seize  a  large  portion  cf  our  minds, 
And  leave  the  lefs  for  God. 
III. 
Nature  has  foft  but  powerful  bands, 

And  reafon  fhe  controuls  ; 
While  children  with  their  little  hands 
Hang  clofeft  to  our  fouls. 
IV. 
Thotightlefs  they  act  th'  old  ferpent's  part  j 

What  tempting  things  they  bt ! 
Loud,  how  they  twine  about  our  heart, 
And  draw  it  off  from  thee  ! 
V.  ■ 
Our  hafly  wills  rufh  blindly  on 

Where  rifing  paffion  rolls. 
And  thus  we  make  our  fetters  ftrong 

To  hind  our  flavifh  fouls.  VI. 

*  Differ (nt  ages  have  their  different  airs  and  fafhivns  of 
writing.  It  was  much  more  the fajhion  of  the  age\  it  hen 
tbife poefns  were  written,  to  treat  of  divine  fuhje&t  in  the 
fiyle  of  Solomon's  Song  than  it  is  at  this  cay,  which 
will  afford  lorue  apology  for  the  writer,  inhisyoung- 
eft  years, 


Sacud  to  Divotion,  &c.  115 

VI. 
Dear  fovereign,  break  thefe  fetters  off, 

And  fet  our  fpirits  free  ; 
God  in  himfeif  is  blifs  enough, 

For  we  have  ail  in  thee. 


Desiring  to  Love  Christ. 
t. 

COME,  let  me  love  ;   or  is  my  mind 
Harden'd  to  ftonc,  or  froze  to  ice  ? 
1  fee  the  bleffed  fair  one  bend 
And  (loop  t'  embrace  me  from  the  ikies  ! 

II. 
O!  'tis  a  thought  would  melt  a  rock, 
/  nd  make  a  heart  of  iron  move, 
That  thpfe  fweet  lips,  that  heavenly  look, 
Should  feek  and  wifn  a  mortal  love  ! 

III. 
1  was  a  traitor  doom'd  to  fire, 
Bound  to  fuftain  eternal  pains ; 
He  flew  on  wings  of  ftrong  delire, 
Afium'd  my  guilt,  and  took  my  chains. 

IV. 
Infinite  grace  !  almighty  charms! 
Stand  in  amaze,  ye  whirling  Ikies, 
JESUS  the  Gon,  with  naked  arms, 
Hangs  on  a  crofs  of  love  and  dies. 

V. 
Did  pity  ever  ftoop  fo  low, 
Drefs'd  in  divinity  and  blood  f 
Was  ever  rebel  courted  fo 
In  groans  of  an  expiring  God  ? 

V!. 


nS       LYRIC    POEMS,  Book  I, 

VI. 

Again  he  lives  ;   and  fpreads  his  hands, 
Hands  that  were  nail'd  to  tort'ring  fmart ; 
By  thefeddar  wounds,  fays  he;  and  ftands 
And  prays  to  clafp  me  to  his  heart. 

VII. 
Sure  I  mud  love  ;   or  are  my  ears 
Still  deaf,  nor  will  my  paffion  move  ? 
Then  let  me  meit  this  heart  to  tears  ; 
This  heart  fnall  yield  to  death  or  love. 


The   HeapvT  given  away 


I. 

IF  there  are  paflions  in  my  foul, 
(And  paflions  fure  there  be) 
Now  they  are  all  at  thy  controul, 
My  JESUS  all  for  thee. 
II. 
If  love,  that  pleafing  power,  can  reft 

In  hearts  fo  hard  as  mine, 
Come,  gentle  Saviour,  to  my  breaft, 
For  all  my  love  is  thine. 
III. 
Let  the  gay  world,  with  treacherous  art, 

Allure  my  heart  in  vain  ; 
I  have  cenvey'd  away  my  heart, 
Ne'er  to  return  again. 
IV. 
I  feci  my  warmeft  paflions  dead 

To  all  that  earth  can  boalt ; 
This  foul  of  mine  was  never  made 
For  vanity  and  duft.    • 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c,         117 
v. 

Now  I  can  fix  my  thoughts  above, 

Amidft  their  flatt'ring  charms, 
Till  the  dear  Lorb  that  hath  my  love, 

Shall  call  me  to  Lis  arms. 
VI. 
So  Gabriel,  at  his  king's  command, 

From  yon  celeftial  hill. 
Walks   downward  to  cur  worthlcfs  land, 

His  foul  points  upward  ftill. 
VII. 
He  glides  along  by  mortal  things, 

Without  a  thought  of  love, 
Fulfils  his  tafk,  and  fpreads  his  wings 

To  reach  the  realms  above. 


Meditation   in  a  Grove. 

I. 

SWEET  mufe  defcend,  and  blefs  the  fhade, 
And  blefs  the  evening  grove  ; 
Eufinefs,  and  noife,  and  day  are  fled, 
And  every  care,  but  love. 
II. 
But  hence,  ye  wanton  young  and  fair, 

Mine  is  a  purer  flame  ; 
No  Phillis  fhail  infect  the  air, 
With  her  unhallowed  name. 
III. 
JESUS  has  all  my  powers  poffefr, 
My  hopes,  my  fears,  my  joys  : 
He,  thetrear  fovereign  of  my  bread, 
Shall  ftill  command  my  voice. 


IV, 


n8     LYRIC    POEMS.    Book  I, 

IV. 

Some  of  the  fairefl  choirs  above, 

Shall  flock  around  my  fong, 
With  joy  to  hear  the  name  they  love 

Sound  from  a  mortal  tongue. 
V. 
Kis  charms  fhall  make  my  numbers  flow, 

And  hold  the  falling  floods, 
While  fllence  fits  on  every  bough, 

And  bends  the  lift'ning  woods. 
VI. 
1*11  carve,  our  paffion  on  the  bark, 

And  every  wounded  tree 
Shall  drop  and  bearfome  myftic  mark 

That  JESUS  dy'd  for  me. 
VII. 
The  fwains  fhall  wonder  when  they  read, 

Infcrib'd  on  all  the  grove, 
That  heaven  itfelf  came  down,  and  bled 

To  win  a  mortal's  love. 


The  Fairest  and  the  Only  Beloved. 


HO  N OUR  to  that  diviner  ray 
That  fir  ft  allured  my  eyes  away 
From  every  mortal  fair  ; 
All  the  gay  things  that  held  my  fight 
Seem  but  the  twinkling  fparks  of  night, 
And  languifhing  in  doubtful  light 
Die  at  the  morning-ftar. 
II. 
Whatever  fpeaks  the  Godhead  great, 

And  fit  to  be  ador'd,  Whatever 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  119 

Whatever  makes  the  creature  fweet, 
And  worthy  of  my  paffioD,  meet 

Harmonious  in  my  Lord, 
A  thoufand  graces  ever  rife 

And  bloom  upon  his  face  ; 
A  thoufand  arrows  from  his  eyes 
Shoot  thro'  my  heart  with  dear  furprife} 
And  guard  around  the  place. 
HI. 
All  nature's  art  fhall  never  cure 

The  heavenly  pains  I  found, 
And  'tis  beyond  all  beauty's  power 
To  maks  another  wound  : 
Earthly  beauties  grow  and  fade  ; 
Nature  heals  the  wounds  me  made, 
Eut  charms  fo  much  divine 
Hold  a  long  empire  of  the  heart ; 
What  heaven  hasjoin'd  fhall  never  part. 
And  JESUS  muftbe  mine. 
IV. 
In  vain  the  envious  fhades  of  night, 

Or  flatteries  of  the  day 
Would  veil  his  image  from  my  fight, 

Or  tempt  my  foul  away  ; 
JESUS  i»all  my  waking  theme, 
His  lovely  form  meets  every  dream 
And  knows  not  to  depart  : 
The  paffion  reigns 
Thro'  all  my  veins, 
And  floating  round  the  crim&n  ftream, 
Still  finds  him  at  my:  heart. 
V. 
Dwell  there,  for  ever  dwell,  my  love  j 

Here  1  confine  my  fenfe  ; 
Nor  dare  my  wildeft  wifhes  rove 

No» 


i2o       LYRIC     POEMS,     Book  I. 

Nor  ftira  thought  from  thence. 
Amidft  thy  glories  and  thy  grace 
Let  all  my  remnant-minutes  pafs  ; 

Grant,  thou  Everlasting  Fair, 

Grant  my  foul  a  manfion  there  : 
My  foul  afpires  to  fee  thy  face 
Tho'  life  fhou'd  fcr  the  vifion  pay ; 
So  rivers  run  to  meet  the  fea, 
And  loofe  their  nature  in  th'  embrace; 

vr. 

Thou  art  my  ocean,  thou  my  God  ; 
In  Thee  the  paffions  of  the  mind 
With  joys  and  freedoms  unconfin'd 
Exult,  and  Jpread  their  powers  abroad. 
Not  all  the  glittering  things  on  high 
Can  make  my  heaven,  if  thou  remove; 
I  fhall  be  tir'd,  and  long  to  die; 
Life  is  a  pain  without  thy  love  ; 

Who  could  ever  bear  to  be 

Curft  with  immortality 
Anions;  the  ftars,  but  far  from  thee  ? 


Mutual  Love  stronger  than  Death. 


NO T  the  rich  world  of  minds  above 
Can  pay  the  mighty  debt  of  love 
I  owe  to  C  u  r  i st  my  Goo  : 
With  pangs  which  none  but  he  could  feel 
Ke  bought  my  guilty  foul  from  hell : 
Not  the  firftferaph's  tongue  can  tell 
The  value  of  his  blood. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         121 

II. 

Kindly  he  feized  me  in  his  arms, 

From  the  falfe  world's  pernicious  charms 

With  force  divinely  fweet 
Had  I  ten  thoufand  lives  my  own, 
At  his  demand, 
With  chearful  hand, 
I'd  pay  the  vital  treafure  down 
In  hourly  tributes  at  his  feet. 

III. 
But,  Saviour,  let  me  tafte  thy  grace 

With  every  fleeting  breath  ? 
And  thro'  that  heaven  of  pleafure  pafs 

To  the  cold  arms  of  death  : 
Then  I  could  lofe  fuccefiive  fouls 

Faft  as  the  minutes  fly ; 
So  billow  after  billow  rolls 

To  kifsthe  fhore,  and  die. 


The  fubfiance  of  the  following  Copy,  and  many 
of  the  Lines  werefent  me  by  an  efleemed 
Friend,  Mr.  W.  Nokes,  with  a  defirt 
that  I  would  form  them  into  a  Pindaric 
Ode  j  but  I  retained  his  Meafurts^  left  I 
fhould  too  much  alter  thefenfe. 

A  Sight  of  Christ. 
I. 

AN  G  E  L  S  of  light,  your  God  and  King  fur- 
round, 
With  noble  fongs;  in  his  exalted  flefh 
He  claims  your  worihip ;  while  his  faints  on  earth, 
Blefs  their  Redeemer«God  with  humble  tongues. 
L  Angela 


jsa     LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  I, 

Angels  v.-itli  lofty  honours  crown  his  head  ; 
We  bowing  at  his  feet,  by  faith,  may  feel 
Jiis  diftant  influence,  and  confefs  his  love. 

Once  I  beheld  his  face,  when  beams  divine 
Broke  from  his  eye-lids,  and  unufual  Iigb* 
Wrapt  me  at  once  in  glory  and  furprize. 
My  joyful  heart  high  leeping  in  my  breaft 
With  tranfport  cry'd,  this  is  the  Christ  (/God; 
Then  threw  my  arms  around  in  fweet  embrace,     I 
And  clafp'd,  and  bow'd  adoring  low,  till  I  was  loi 
in  him. 

While  he  appears,  no  other  charms  can  hold 
Or  draw  my  foul,  afftam'd  of  former  things, 
Which  no  remembrance  now  deferve  or  name, 
Tho'  with  contempt ;  bed  in  oblivion  hid. 

But  the  bright  fhine  and  prefence  foon  withdrew 
I  fought  him  whom  I  love,  but  found  him  not; 
I  felt  his  abience  ;  and  with  ftrongeit  cries 
Proclaimed,   "where  JESUS  is  not,   all  is  vain. 
Whether  I  hold  him  with  a  full  delight, 
Or  feek  him  panting  with  extreme  defire, 
'Tishe  alone  can  pleafe  my  wond'ringfoul; 
To  hold  or  feek  him  is  my  only  choice. 
Tf  he  refrain  on  me  to  caft  his  eye 
Down  from  his  palace,  nor  my  longing  foul 
With  upward  look  can  fpy  my  deareft  Lord 
Thro'  his  blue  pavement,  I'll  behold  him  {till 
With  fweet  reflection  on  the  peaceful  crofs, 
All  in  his  blood  and  anguifh  groaning  deep, 

Gafping  and  dying  there . 

This  fight  I  ne'er  can  lofe,  by  it  I  live : 
A  quick'ning  virtue  from  his  death  infpir'd 
Is  life  and  breath  to  me  ;  his  flefh  my  food ; 
His  vital  blood  I  drink,  and  hence  my  ftrength, 

I  live,  I'm  ftrong,  and  pow  eternal  life 

Bt 


Sasred  to  Devotion,  &c.  123 

Beats  quick  within  my  breaft;  my  vigorous  mind 

Spurns  the  dull  earth,  and  on  her  fiery  wings 

Reaches  the  mount  of  purpofes  divine, 

Counfels  of  peace  betwixt  th'  almighty  three 

JCouceiv'd  at  once,  and  fign'd  without  debate, 

In  perfect  union  of  th'  eternal  mind. 

With  vaft  amaze  I  fee  the  unfathom'd  thoughts, 

[infinite  fchems,  and  infinite  defigns 

JOf  God's  own  heart,  ia  which  he  ever  reits. 

JEternity  lies  open  to  my  view ; 

Here  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  all, 

I  can  difcover  ;   CHRIST  the  end  of  all, 

And  CHRIST  the  great  beginning;  he  my  head, 

My  God,  my  glory,  and  my  all  in  all. 

O  that  the  day,  the  joyful  day  V.  ere  come, 
When  the  firil  Adam  from  his  ancient  dufl 
Crown'd  with  new  honours  fhall  revive,  and  fee 
JESUS  his  Son  and  Lord;  while  fhouting  faints 
Surround  their  king,  and  God's  eternal  fon 
Shines  in  the  midft,  but  with  fnperior  beams, 
And  like  himfelf ;  then  the  myfteriqus  word 
Long  hid  behind  the  letter  ihall  appear 
All  fpirit  and  life,  and  in   the  fullefi  light 
Stand  forth  to  public  view,  and  there  difciofe 
His  father's  facred  works,  and  wondrous  ways  : 
Then  wifdom,  rightcoufnefs  and  grace  divine, 
Thro'  all  the  infinite  tranfactions  pall, 
Inwrought  and  mining,  fhail  with  double  blaze 
Strike  our  ailoniih'd  eyes,  -and  ever  reign, 
Admir'd  and  glorious  in  triumphant  fight. 

Death,  and  the  tempter,  and  the  man  of  fin 
Now  at  the  bar  arraigned,  in  judgment  cuft, 
Shall  vex  the  faints  no  more  :  but  per  feci  love 
Andloadeft  praifes  perfect  joys  create, 
While  eyer  circling  years  mamtain  the  blifsful  flate. 
L  %  Love 


124     LYRIC     POEMS.      Book!, 

Love  on  a  Cross,  and  a  Throne. 

1. 

NO  W  let  my  faith  growftrong,  and  rife, 
And  view  my  Lord,  in  ali  his  love  ; 
Look  back  to  hear  his  dying  cries, 
Then  mount  and  fee  his  throne  above. 

II. 
See  where  he  languifiVd  on  the  crofs ; 
Beneath  my  fins  he  groan'd  and  dy'd ; 
See  where  he  fits  to  \  Lad  my  caufe 
Ey  his  almighty  father's  fide. 

III. 
If  I  behold  his  bleeding  heart, 
There  love  in  floods  of  forrow  reigns, 
He  triumphs  o'er  the  killing  fmart, 
And  buys  my  pleafure  with  his  pains. 

IV. 
Or  if  I  climb  th'  eternal  hills 
Where  the  dear  Conqueror  fits  enthron'd, 
Still  in  his  heart  compafiion  dwells, 
Near  the  memorials  of  his  wound. 

V. 
How  fnall  a  parden'd  rebel  fhow 
How  much  I  love  my  dying  God  ? 
Lord,  here  I  banifh  every  foe, 
1  hate  the  fins  that  coft  thy  blood. 

VI. 
I  hold  no  more  commerce  with  hell, 
My  deareft  lufts  ihall  all  depart  ; 
But  let  thine  image  ever  dwell 
Stampt  asaftal  upon  my  heart. 

A  Pri> 


Satred  to  Devotion*,  &c.         125 

A  Preparatory    Thought    tor    thk 
Lord's    Supper. 

In  Imitation  of  Ifai.  lxiii.  I,  2,  3. 
I. 
"TTT  HAT  heavenly  Man,  or  lovely  Gonr 

*  *      Comes  marching  do vvn wards  from  the  Ikies, 
Array 'd  in  garments  roil'd  in  bieod, 
With  joy  and  pity  in  his  eyes? 

II. 

The  Lord  !  the  Saviour!  yes,  'tis  he,         -» 
I  know  him  by  the  fmiies  he  wears  ; 
Dear  glorious  Man  that  dy'd  for  me, 
Dreuch'd  deep  in  agonies  and  tears! 

III. 
Lo.  he  reveals  his  mining  breaft  ; 
I  own  thofe  wounds,  and  I  adore  : 
Lo,  he  prepares  a  royal  feaft, 
Sweet  fruit  of  the  fliarp  pangs  he  bore! 

[IV. 
Whence  flow  thefe  favours  fo  divine ! 
Lord  !   why  fo  lavifh  of  thy  blood  ? 
Why  for  fuch  earthly  fouls  as  mine, 
This, heavenly  flelh,  this  facresi  food. 

V. 
'Twashis  own  love  that  made  him  bleed', 
That  nailed  him  to  the  curfed  tree ;, 
^T was  his own  love  this  table fpread 
3?or  fuch  unworthy  worms  as  we. 

VI. 
Then  let  us  tafte  the  Saviour's  love, 
Come,  faith,  and  feed  upon  the  Lord  : 
With  glad  confent  our  lips  fhall  move 
And  fweet  bo/annas  crown'dthe  board, 

L  3  Cojsversb 


iz6       LYRIC    POEMS,       Book  I 

Converse   with   Christ. 

I. 

I'M  tir'd  with  vifits,  modes  and  forms, 
And  flatteries  paid  to  fellow  worms  ; 

Their  converfation  cloys  : 
Their  vain  amours,  and  empty  fluff: 
But  I  can  ne'er  enjoy  enough 
Of  thy  bieft  company,  my  Lord,  thou  life  of  al 
my  jovs. 

II. 
When  he  begins  to  tell  his  love, 
Through  every  vein  my  pafiions  move, 

The  captives  of  his  tongue  ; 
In  midnight  (hades,  on  frofty  ground, 
1  could  attend  thepleafing  found, 
Nor  fhould  I  ftel  December  cold,  nor  think  the  dark- 
nefs  long. 

III. 
There,  while  I  hear  my  Saviour  God 
Count  o'er  the  fins,   (a  heavy  load) 
He  bore  upon  the  tree, 
Inward  I  blufh  with  fecret  fhame, 
And  w-eep,  and  love,  and  blefs  the  name 
That  knew  nor  guilt  nor  grief  his  own,  but  bare  it 
all  for  me. 

IV. 
Next  he  defcribes  the  thorns  he  wore, 
And  talks  his  bloody  pafiion  o'er, 

Till  I  am  drown'd  in  tears  : 
Yet  with  the  fympathetic  fmart 
There's  a  flrange  jcy  beats  round  my  heart ; 
The  curfed  tree  has  bleffings  in't,  my  fweetefl  Lalm 
it  bears. 


Sacred  t&  Devotion,  &c.         127 

V. 

I  hear  the  glorious  fufferer  tell, 
Kow  on  hiscrofs  he  vanquifn'd  hell, 

And  all  ths  powers  beneath ; 
Tranfported  and  infpir'd,   my  tongue 
Attempts  Ills  triumphs  in  a  fcng  : 
Hoiv  bas  lot  frpeni  lojl  LisJIing,   and  ivbere 's  iby  vi&o- 
ry,  clear  b  P 

VI. 
But  when  he  (hews  his  hands  and  heart, 
With  thyfe  dear  prints  of  dying  fmart, 

He  fets  my  foul  on  fire  : 
Not  the  beloved  John  could  reft 
With  more  delight  upon  that  breaft, 
i>*or  Thomas  pry  into  thofe  wounds  with  more  in- 
tenie  deiire. 

VII. 
Kindly  he  opens  me  his  ear, 
AiTd  bids  me  pour  my  forrows  there, 

And  tell  him  ail  my  pains  : 
Thus  while  I  eafe  my  burden* d  heart, 
In  every  woe  he  bears  a  part, 
His  arms  embrace  me,  and  his  hand  rny  drooping 
head  fuftains. 

VIII. 
Fly  from  my  thoughts,  all  human  thing9, 
And  fporting  fwains,  and  fighting  king?, 

And  tales  of  wanton  love  : 
My  foul  difdains  that  little  fnare 
The  tangles  of  Amira's  hair  ; 
Thine  arms,  my  God,  are  fweeter  bands,  nor  can 
my  heart  remove, 

Grace 


128       LYRIC     POEMS,     Book  I. 

Grace  shining,  and  Nature  fainting. 
Sol.  Seng  i.  3,  &  ii.  5.  5c  vi.  5. 

I. 

TELL  me,  fairefl  of  thy  kind, 
Tell  me  Sht^HtKD,  aii  civine, 
Where  this  tainting  head  reclin'd 
May  relieve  fuch  cares  as  name  : 
Siiiirn  E,tu,  lead  me  to  thy  grove; 
If  burning  noon  infect  the  Iky 
The  fick'ning  fheep  to  coverts  fly, 
The  fheep  not  half  fo  faint  as  I, 
Thus  overcome  with  love. 
If. 
Say,  thou  dear  Sovereign  of  my  breaft, 
Where  doit  thou  lead  thy  flock  to  reft? 
Where  fhould  I  appear  like  one 
Wild  and  jwand'ring  ail  alone, 
Unbeloved  and  unknown  ? 
O  my  great  Redeemer,  fay, 
Shall  i  turn  my  feet  aftray  ! 
Will  JESUS  bear  to  fee  me  rove, 
To  fee  me  feek  another  love  ? 
III. 
Ne'er  had  I  known  his  deareft  name, 
Ne'er  had  I  felt  his  dearell  flame, 
Had  rot  his  heart-firings  firft  began  the  tender  found ; 
Nor  can  I  bear  the  thought,  that  he 
Shou'd  leave  the  fey, 
Shcu'd  bleed  and  die, 
Should  love  a  wretch  fo  vile  as  me 
Without  returns  of  paffion  for  his  dying  wound. 
IV. 
His  eyes  are  glory  mix'd  with  grace  j 
In  his  delightful  awful  face 
-Jits  raajefty  and  gentunefi.  So 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  129 

So  tender  is  my  bleeding  heart 

That  with  a  frown  he  kills ; 
His  abfence  is  perpetual  fmart, 
Nor  is  my  foul  refin'd  enough 
To  bear  the  beaming  of  his  love, 

And  feel  his  warmer  fmiles. 
Where  fhall  I  reft  this  drooping  head  ? 
1  love,  I  love  the  fun,  and  yet  1  want  the  fhade. 
V. 
My  finking  fpirits  feebly  flrive 

T'  endure  the  ecftacy  ; 
Beneath  thefe.rays  1  cannot  live, 

And  yet  without  them  die. 
None  knows  the  pleafure  and  the  pain 
That  all  my  inward  powers  fuftain 
But  fuch  as  feel  a  Saviour's  love,  and  love  the. 
God  again. 

VI. 
O  why  fhould  beauty  heavenly  bright 

Stoop  to  charm  a  mortal's  fight, 
And  torture  with  the  fweet  excefs  of  light  I 
Our  hearts,  alas!  how  frail  their  make  ! 
With  their  owq,  weight  of  joy  they  break, 
Oh  why  is  love  fo  flrong,  and  nature's  felf  fo  weak? 
VII. 
Turn,  turn  away  thine  eyes, 
Afcend  the  Azure  hills,  and  mine 
Amongft  the  happy  tenants  of  the  Ikies, 
They  can  fuftain  a  vihon  fo  divine. 

O  turn  thy  lovely  glories  from  me, 
The  joys  are  too  intenfe,  the  glories  overcome  me. 
VIII. 
Dear  Lord,  forgive  my  rafh  complaint, 
And  love  me  itill 
Againft  my  froward  will  \ 

Unvail 


ISO     LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  I. 

Unvail  thy  beauties,  tho'  I  faint. 
Ssnd  the  great  herald  from  the  fky, 

And  at  the  trumpet's  awful  roar 
This  feeble  ftate  of  things  fliall  fly 
And  pain  and  pleafure  mix  no  more  : 
Then  fhall  I  gaze  withftrengthened  fight 
On  glories  infinitely  bright, 

My  heart  fhall  all  be  love,  my  JESUS  all  delight. 


Love  to  Christ  present  or  absent. 

1. 

OF  all  the  joys  we  mortals  know, 
JESUS,  thy  love  exceeds  the  reft  j 
Love,  the  bed  blefling  here  below, 
And  nearefl  image  of  the  blefL 

II. 
Sweet  are  my  thoughts,  and  foft  my  cares, 
When  the  celeftial  flame  I  feel ; 
In  all  my  hopes,  and  all  my  fears, 
There's  fomething  kind  and  pleafing  flill. 

III. 
While  I  am  held  in  his  embrace 
There's  not  a  thought  attempts  to  rove  ; 
Each  fmile  he  wears  upon  his  face 
Fixes, .and  charms,  and  fires  my  love. 

IV. 
He  fpeaks,  and  flrait  immortal  joys 
Run  thro'  my  ears,  and  reach  my  heart ; 
My  foul  all  melts  at  that  dear  voice, 
And  pleafure  fhoots  thro'  every  part. 

V. 
If  he  withdraw  a  moment's  fpace, 
lie  leaves  a  facrtd  pledge  beinn.il ;  Here 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c»  131 

Here  in  this  breaS  his  image  (lays, 
The  grief  and  comfort  of  my  mind. 

VI. 
While  of  his  abfence  I  complain, 
And  long,  and  weep  as  lovers  do, 
There's  a  fcrange  pleafure  in  the  pain, 
And  tears  have  their  own  fweetnefo  too. 

VII. 
When  round  his  courts  by  day  I  rove, 
Oraik  the  watchmen  of  the  night 
For  fome  kind  tidings  of  my  love, 
Hisv^ry  name  creates  delight. 

VIII. 
JESUS,  my  God  ;  yet  rather  come; 
Mine  eyes  would  dwell  upon  thy  face  ; 
'Tis  beft  to  fee  my  Lord  at  home, 
And  feel  the  prefence  of  his  grace. 


The  Absence   of  Christ. 

I. 

CO  ME,  lead  me  to  fome  lofty  fhade 
Where  turtles  moan  their  loves  j 
Tall  fhadows  were  for  lovers  made  : 
And  grief  becomes  the  groves. 
II. 
'Tis  no  mean  beauty  of  the  ground 

That  has  enflav'd  my  eyes  ; 
I  faint  beneath  a  nobler  wound, 
Nor  love  below  the  Ikies. 
III. 
JESUS,  the  fpring  of  all  that's  bright, 

The  everlafting  fair, 
Heaven's  ornament,  and  heaven'e  delight, 

Is  my  eternal  care .  I V. 


i32       LYRIC  POEMS,      Book  I. 

IV. 

Eut,  ah !  how  far  above  this  grove 

Does  the  bright  charmer  dwell? 
Abfence,  that  keeneft  wound  to  love, 

That  fharpeft  pain,  I  feel. 
V. 
Penfive  I  climb  the  facred  hills, 

And  near  him  vent  my  wees  ; 
"Yet  his  fweet  face  he  flill  conceals, 

Yet  flill  my  paffion  grows. 
VI. 
1  murmur  to  the  hollow  vale, 

I  tell  the  rocks  my  flame, 
And  blefs  the  echo  in  her  cell 

That  bell  repeats  his  name. 
VII. 
My  paffion  breaths  perpetual  fighs, 

Till  pitying  winds  fhall  hear, 
And  gently  bear  them  up  the  fkics, 

And  gently  wound  his  ear. 


Desiring  his  Descent  to  Earth, 


JESUS,  I  love.     Come,  deareftname, 
Come  and  poffefs  this  heart  of  mine  ; 
I  love,  tho'  'tis  a  fainter  flame, 
And  infinitely  lefs  than  thine. 

II. 
O !  if  my  Lord  would  leave  the  fkies, 
Dreftin  the  rays  ofmildeft  grace, 
My  foul  fhould  haflen  to  my  eyes 
To  meet  the  pleafures  of  hi*  fate. 

III. 


Sacred  t&  Devotion,  &c,        133 
in. 

1  How  would  I  feaft  on  all  his  charms, 
j  Then  round  his  lovely  feet  entwine  ! 
I  Worfhip  and  love,  in  all  their  forms, 
'  Shou'd  honour  beauty  fo  divine. 

IV. 
In  vain  the  tempter's  flatt'ring  tongue, 
The  world  in  vain  fhould  bid  me  move, 
In  vain;  for  I  fhould  gaze  fo  long 
Till  I  were  all  transform'd  to  love. 

V. 
Then  (mighty  God)  I'd  fing  and  fay, 
Ai  What  empty  names  are  crowns  and  kings! 
"  Amongft  'em  give  thefe  worlds  away, 
**  Thefe  little  defpicable  things. 

VI. 
I  would  not  afk  to  climb  the  fky, 
Nor  envy  angels  their  abode, 
I  have  a  heav'n  as  bright  and  high 
In  the  bleft  vifion  of  my  God. 


Ascending  to  Him  in  Heaven. 

I. 

TI S  pure  delight,  without  alloy, 
JESUS  to  hear  thy  name, 
My  fpirit  leaps  with  inward  joy, 
I  feel  the  facred  flame. 
II. 
My  paffions  hold  a  pleafing  reign, 

While  love  infpires  my  breaft, 
Love,  the  divineft  of  the  train, 
The  fovereign  of  the  reft. 

M  m. 


i34    LYRIC    POEMS.   Book  I. 
HI. 

This  is  the  grace  muft  live  and  fing, 

When  faith  and  fear  fhall  ceafe, 
Muft  found  from  every  joyful  ilring 
Thro'  the  fvveet  groves  of  blifs, 
IV. 
Let  life  immortal feize  my  clay; 

Let  love  refine  my  blood  ; 
Her  flames  can  bear  my  foul  away, 
Can  bring  me  near  my  God. 
V. 
Swift  I  afcend  the  heavenly  place, 

And  haften  to  my  home, 
Heap  to  meet  thy  kind  embrace, 
I  come,  O  Lord,  I  come. 
VI. 
Sink  down,  ye  fepajating  hills, 
Let  guilt  and  death  remove, 
'Tis  love  that  drives  my  chariot  wheels, 
And  death  muft  yield  to  Jove. 


The  Presence  of    GOD  worth    dyinc 
for:  Or,  the  Death  of  Moses. 

LORD,  'tis  an  infinite  delight, 
To  fee  thy  lovely  face, 
To  dwell  whole  ages  in  thy  fight, 
And  feel  thy  vital  rays. 
II. 
This  Gabriel  knows ;  and  fings  thy  name 

With  rapture  on  his  tongue; 

Mofes  the  faint,  enjoys  the  fame, 

And  heaven  repeats  the  fong. 

III. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  135 

III. 

While  the  bright  nation  founds  thy  praife. 

From  each  eternal  hill, 
Sweet  odours  of  exhaling  grace 

The  happy  region  fill. 

IV. 
Thy  love,  a  fea  without  a  fhprc, 

Spreads  life  and  joy  abroad; 
O  'tis  a  heaven  wonh  dying  for, 

To  fee  a  fmiling  God! 
V. 
Shew  me  thy  face,  and  I'll  away 

From  all  inferior  things ; 
Speak,  Lord,  and  hear  I  quit  my  clay, 

And  ftretch  my  airy  wings. 
VI. 
Sweet  was  the  journey  t«  the  Iky 

The  wondrous  prophet  try'd; 
Climb  up  the  mount,  fays  GoD,  and  die  : 

The  prophet  climb'd  and  dy'd. 
VII. 
Softly  his  fainting  head  he  lay 

Upon  his  Maker's  breaft, 
His  Maker  kifs'd  his  foul  away, 

And  laid  his  flefh  to  reft. 
VIII. 
In  God's  own  arms  he  left  the  breatfe 

That  God's  own  fpirit  gave ; 
His  was  the  nobleft  road  to  deatb, 

And  his  the  fweeteft  grave. 


MJ  *  L  O  N  G 


136     LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  I. 

Long  for  his  Return. 

I. 

O'Twas  a  mournful  parting  day  ! 
Fareivel,  txyfpoufe,  he  faid ; 
How  tedious,  Lord,  is  thy  delay! 
(How  long  my  love  hath  {laid  1) 
II. 
Farcivsl !  at  once  he  left  the  ground, 

And  cKmb'd  his  father's  Iky  : 
Lord,  1  would  tempt  thy  chariot  do wn* 
Or  leap  to  thee  on  high. 
III. 
Round  the  creation  wild  I  rove, 
And  fearch  the  globe  in  vain  ; 
There's  nothing  here  that's  worth  my  lore 
Till  thou  return  again. 
IV. 
My  paffions  fly  tofeek  their  King* 

And  fend  their  groans  abroad* 
They  beat  the  air  with  heavy  wing, 
And  mourn  an  abfent  God. 
V. 
"With  inward  pain  my  heart-ftrings  found, 

My  foul  diffolves  away  ; 
Dear  Sovereign,  whirl  the  feafons  round* 
And  bring  the  promis'd  day. 


Hope   in  Darkness. 

I.  1694* 

YET,  gracious  GOD, 
Yet  will  I  feek  thy  fmiling  face  ; 
What  tho'  a  fhort  eclipfe  his  beauties  fhroud 

And 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  137 

And  bar  the  influence  of  his  rays, 
'Tisbut  a  morning  vapour,  or  a  fummercloud : 
He  is  my  lull,  tho'  herefufe  to  (hine, 
Tho!  for  a  moment  he  depart 
1  dwell  for  ever  on  his  heart, 

For  ever  he  on  mine. 
Ear;y  before  the  light  arife 
I'll  fpring  a  thought  away  to  God  ; 
The  pafijon  of  my  heart  and' eyes 
Sha'l  fhout  a-  thoufand  groans  and  fighs, 
A  thoufand  glances  ftrike  the  fkies, 
The  floor  cf  his  abode. 
II. 
Dear  Sovereign,  hear  thy  fervant  pray 
Bend  the  blue  Heavens,  Eternal  King, 
Downward  thy  chearful  gracesbring  ; 
Or  fhall  I  breathe  in  vain,  and  pant  my  hours  away? 
Break  Glorious  Brightnefs,  thro'  the  gloomy  veil, 
Look  how  the  armies  of  defpair, 
Aloft  their  footy  banners  rear- 
Round  my  poor  captive  foul,  and  dare 
Pronounce  me  prifoner  of  hell. 
But  Thou,  my  Sun,  and  Thou,  my  Shield, 
Wilt  fave  me  in  the  bloody  field; 
Break,  gioriousTkightneis,  fhootoneglimm'ring  ray, 
One  glance  of  thine  creates  a  day, 
And  drives  the  troops  of  hell  away. 
III. 
Happy  the  times,  but  ah !  the  times  are  gone 
When  wond'rous  power  and  radiant  grace 
Round  the  tall  arches  of  the  temple  (hone, 
And  mingled  their  victorious  rays: 
Sin  with  all  its  ghaftly  train, 
Fled  to  the  deeps  of  death  again, 

M  3  And 


j38     LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  1. 

And  fn  iling  triumph  fat  en  every  face; 
Our  lpirits  raptur'd  with  the  fight 
Were  all  devotion,  all  delight, 
And  loud  Hofannas  founded  the  Redeemer's  praifc. 
Here  could  I  fay. 
(And  point  the  plase  whereon  I  flood) 
Here  1  enjoy'd  a  vifit  half  the  day 
From  my  defceoding   God  : 
I  was  regal'd  with  heavenly  fare, 
With  fruit  and  manna  from  above  ; 
Divinely  fweet  the  bleHii  gs  were 
While  mine  Emanuel  was  there  ; 
And  o'er  my  head 
The  Conqueror  fpread 
The  banner  of  his  love. 
IV. 
Then  why  my  heart  funic  down  fo  low  ? 
Why  do  my  eyes  diffolve  and  flow, 

And  hopelefs  nature  mourn  ? 
Review,  my  foul,  thofe  pleafing  days, 
Pvead  his  unalterable  grace 
Thro'  the  difpleafure  of  his  face, 

And  wait  a  kind  return. 
A  father's  love  may  raife  a  frown 
To  chide  the  child,  or  prove  the  fon> 

But  iove  will  ne'er  deftroy  ; 
The  hour  of  darknefs  is  but  fbort, 
Faith  be  thy  life,  and  patience  tby  fupport, 
The  morning  brings  the  joy. 


Come,  Lord  JESUS. 

WHEN  fhal!  thy  lovely  face  be  feen  ? 
When  fhall  our  efc$ behold  ourC-cD  ? 

Whal 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         139 

What  lengths  of  diftance  lie  between, 
And  hills  of  guilt  ?  a  heavy  load  I 

II. 
Our  months,  are  ages  of  delay, 
And  flowly  every  minute  \vear5  : 
Fly,  winged  time,  and  roll  away 
Thefe  tedious  rounds  of  fluggifb  years, 

III. 
Ye  h-avenly  gates,  loofe  all  your  chains, 
Let  the  eternal  pillars  how  ; 
Bletl  Saviour,   cleave  the  ftarry  plains, 
And  make  the  cryftal  mountains  iiow. 

IV. 
Hark,  how  thy  faints  unite  their  cries, 
And  pray  and  wait  the  general  doom  ; 
Come,  thou,  The  Soul   of   alj    our  joys 
Thou,  The  desire  of   nations,    come. 

V. 
Put  thy  bright  robes  of  triumph  on, 
And  blefs  our  eyes,  andblefs  our  ears, 
Thou  abfent  Love,  thou  dear  Unknown-, 
Thou  Fairest  of  ten  thousand  Fairs-. 

VI. 
Our  heart  ftrings  groan  with  deep  complaint, 
Our  fiefli  lies  panting,  Lord,  for  thee, 
And  every  limb,  and  every  joint, 
Stretches  for  immortality. 
VII. 
Our  fpirits  fhake  their  eager  wings, 
And  burn  to  meet  thy  flying  throne ; 
We  rife  away  from  mortal  things 
T'  attend  thy  mining  chariot  down. 

VIII. 
Now  let  our  chearful  eyes  furvey 
The  blazing  earth  and  mslting  hills, 

And 


1 4o       LYRIC   P  OE  M  S,       Book  I. 

And  fmile  to  fee  the  lightnings  play, 
And  flafli  along  before  thy  wheels. 

IX. 
O  for  a  fhout  of  violent  joys, 
To  join  the  trumpet's  thund'ring  found  ! 
The  angel  herald  fhakes  the  (kits, 
AwaKes  the  graves,  and  tears  the  ground. 

X. 
Ye  flumb'ring  faint?,  a  heavenly  ho  ft 
Stands  wait.ng  at  your  gaping  tombs; 
Let  every  facred  fleeping  dufc 
Leap  into  life,  for  JESUS  comes. 

XI 
JESUS,  the  God  of  might  and  love, 
New-moulds  our  limbs  of  cumb'i  pus  clay  ;• 
Quick  as  feraphick  flames  we  move, 
Active  and  youns:,  and  fair  as  they. 

XII. 
Our  airy  feet  witb  unknown  flight 
Swift  as  the  motions  of  defire, 
Run  up  the  hills  of  heavenly  light, 
And  leave  the  weltring  world  in  fire. 


Bewailing  my  own  Inconstancy. 
I. 

I  LOVE  the  Lord  ;  but  ah  !  how  far 
My  thoughts  from  the  dear  object  arc ! 
This  wanton  heart  how  wide  it  roves  ! 
And  fancy  meets  a  chouftnd  loves. 

II. 
If  my  foul  burn  to  fee  my  God, 
I  tread  the  courts  of  his  a b(  d.e. 
But  troops  of  rivals  throng  the  place 
And  tempt  me  off  before  his  face.  HL 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         141 

ill. 

Would  I  enjoy  my  Lord  alone, 

I  hid  my  paffions  all  be  gone, 

All  but  my  love  ;  and  charge  my  will 

To  bar  the  door  and  guard  it  ftill. 

IV. 
But  cares  or  trifles  make  or  find 
Still  new  avenues  to  the  mind, 
Till  I  with  grief  and  wonder  fee 
Huge  crowds  betwixt  my  Lord  and  me. 

V. 
Oft  I  am  told  the  mufe  will  prove 
A  friend  to  piety  and  love  : 
Strait  I  begin  fome  facred  fong, 
And  take  my  Saviour  on  my  tongue, 

VI. 
Strangely  I  lofe  his  lovely  face 
To  hold  the   empty  founds  in  chafe  ; 
At  bed  the  chimes  divide  my  heart, 
And  the  mufe  fhares  the  larger  part* 

VII. 
Falfe  confident  ;  and  falfer  breail  [ 
Fickle  and  fond  of  every  gueft  : 
Each  airy  image  as  it  flies 
Here  finds  admittance  thro'  my  eyes. 

VIII. 
This  foolifh  heart  can  leave  her  God, 
And  fbadows  tempt  her  thoughts  abroad  j 
How  (hall  I  fix  this  wandring  mind, 
Or  throw  my  fetters  on  the  wind  ? 

IX. 
Look  gently  down,  Almighty  Grace, 
Prifon  me  round  in  thine  embrace; 
Pity  the  foul  that  would  be  thine, 
And  let  thy  power  my  love  confine. 

X.- 


i42       LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  I, 
x. 

Say,  when  (hall  that  bright  moment  be. 
That  I  (hall  live  alone  for  thee, 
My  heart  no  foreign  lords  adore, 
And  the  wild  mufe  prove  falfe  no  more  ? 


Forsaken,  tet  Hoping. 

I. 

HAPPY  the  hours,  the  golden  day*, 
When  I  could  call  my  JESUS  mine, 
And  fit  and  view  his  fmiling  face, 
And  melt  in  pleafures  all  divine. 

II. 
Near  to  my  heart,  within  my  arm* 
He  lay,  till  fin  defil'd  my  breaft, 
Till  broken  vows  and  earthly  charms, 
Tir'd  and  provok'd  my  heavenly  gueft. 

111. 
And  now  he's  gone,  (O  mighty  woe  !) 
Gone  from  my  foul,  and  hides  his  love  ! 
Curfe  on  you,  fins,  that  griev'd  him  fo, 
Ye  fins,  that  fore'd  him  to  remove. 

IV. 

Break,  break,  my  heart ;  complain  my  tougi 
Hither,  my  friends,  your  forrows  bring ; 
Angels  affift  my  doleful-fong, 
If  you  have  e'er  a  mourning-  firing. 

V. 
But  ah  !  your  joys  are  ever  high, 
Ever  his  lovely  face  you  fee  ; 
While  my  poor  fpirits  pant  and  die*, 
And  groan  for  thee,  my  God,  for  thee. 


sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.        143 

VI. 

ji'et  1ft  my  hope  look  thro'  my  tears, 
fad  fpy  ah:  his  rolling  throne  ; 
irjis  chariot  thro'  the  cleaving  fpheres 
Shall  bring  the  bright  Beloved  down. 

VII. 
Swift  as  a  roe  flies  o'er  the  hills, 
My  foul  fpffMgs  out  to  meet  him  high, 
Then  the  fair  Conqueror  turns  his  wheels* 
And  climbs  the  ttianfiens  of  the  Iky. 

VIII. 
There  fmilingjoy  for  ever  reigns, 
No  mere  die  turtle  leaves  the  uove ; 
^arewelto  jeuloufies,  and  pains, 
And  all  the  ills  of  ahfent  love. 


The    Conclusion. 

GOD    EXALT* D    ABOVE     ALL    PRAISE, 

I. 

ET  EjRN  AL  power !  whofe  high  abode 
Becomes  the  grandeur  of  a  Gon  ; 
Infinite  lengths  beyond  the  bounds 
Where  ftars  revolve  their  little  rounds. 

II. 
The  lowefl  Hep  above  thy  feat 
Rifes  too  high  for  Gabriel's  feet, 
In  vain  the  tall  arch-angel  tries 
To  reach  thine  height  with  wondring  eyes. 

III. 
Thy  dazling  beauties  whilft  he  fings, 
He  hides  his  face  behind  his  wings ; 
And  ranks  of  Ihining  thrones  around 
Fall  worfhipping,  and  fpread  the  ground,  IV. 


,44      LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  I, 

IV. 

Lord,  what  fhall  earth  and  afhesdo  ? 
We  would  adore  our  Maker  too  ; 
From  fin  and  duft  to  thee  we  cry 
The  Great,  the  Holy  and  the  Higu. 

V. 
Earth  from  afar  has  heard  thy  fame, 
And  worms  have  learnt  to  lifp  thy  name  ; 
But  O,  the  glories  of  thy  mind, 
Leave  all  our  foaring  thoughts  behind. 

VI. 
God  is  in  heaven,  and  men  below  ; 
Befhort,  our  tunes;  our  words,  be  few; 
A  facred  reverence  checks  our  fongs, 
And  praife  fits  filence  on  our  tongues. 


The  END  of  the  FIRST  BOOK. 
Tibi filet  law,  0  Deus,  Pfal.  kv.  I. 


HORM    LTRICM. 

BOOK       II. 

Sacred  to  Virtue,  Honour,  and  Friendship, 


Q 


To    her   Majesty. 

UEEN  of  the  northern  world  whofe  gentle  fway 
Commands  our  love,  and  charms  our  hearts  t' 
obey, 
i  Forgive  the  nation's  groan  when  WILLIAM  dy'd  : 

Lo,   at  thy  feet  in  all  the  loyal  pride 
i  Of  blooming  joy,  three  happy  realms  appear, 
And  WILLIAM's  urn  almoft  without  a  tear 
I  Stands;    nor   complains ;  while  from  thy  gracious 

tongue, 
I  Peace  flows  in  filver  ftreams  amidft  the  throng. 
Amazing  balm,  that  on  thofe  lips  was  found 
To  footh  the  torment  of  that  mortal  wound,. 
And  calm  the  wild  affright!   the  terror  dies, 
The  bleeding  wound  cements,  the  danger  flies, 
And  Albion  fhouts  thine  honours  as  her  joys  arife 

The  German  eagle  feels  her  guardian  dead, 
Not  her  own  thunder  can  fecure  her  head; 
Her  trembling  eaglets  haften  from  afar, 
All  Belgia's  lion  dreads  the  Gallick  war  l 

N  All 


j 


146     LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  II. 

All  hide  behind  thy  (liield.     Remoter  lands 
Whofe  lives  lay  trufted  in  NafTovian  hands, 
Transfer  their  fouls,  and  live  ;  fecure  they  play 
In  thy  mild  rays,  and  love  the  growing  day. 

Thy  beamy  wing  at  once  defends  and  warms 
Fainting  religion,  whilft  in  various  forms 
Fair  piety  fhines  thro'  the  Britifh  ifies  ; 
Here  at  thy  fide,  and  in  thy  kindeft  fmiles* 
Blazing  in  ornamental  gold  fhe  {lands 
To  bids  thy  councils,  and  affift  thy  hands, 
And  crowds  wait  round  her  to  receive  commands. 
There  at  a  humble  diftance  from  the  thronef 
Beauteous  fhe  lies;  her  luftre  all  her  own, 
Ungarnifh'd  ;  yet  not  blufhing,  nor  afraid, 
Nor  knows  fufpicion,  nor  affects  the  fhade : 
Chearful  and  pleas'd  flic  not  prefumes  to  fhare 
Jn  thy  parental  gifts,  but  owns  thy  guardian  care. 
For  thee,  dear  fovereign,  endlefs  vows  arife, 
And  zeal  with  early  wingialutes  the  fkies 
To  gain  thy  fafety:  here  afolemn  form* 
Of  ancient  words  keeps  the  devotion  warm. 
And  guides,  but  bounds  our  wifh.es:  there  themindf 
Feels  its  own  fire,  and  kindles  unconfin'd 
"With  bolder  hopes:  yet  ftill  beyond  our  vows 
Thy  lovely  glories  rife,  thy  fpreading  terror  grows. 

Princess,  the  world  already  owns  thy  name : 
Go,  mount  the  chariot  of  immortal  fame, 
Nor  die  to  be  rcnown'd :  fame's  loudeft  breath 
Too  dear  is  purchas'd  by  an  angel's  death. 
The  vengeance  of  thy  rod,  with  general  joy, 
Shall  fcourge  rebellion  and  the  rival  boy  :^ 


Thy 


*  The  cjlablifbed  Church  oj  England. 

f  Vbt  frotejlant  Difentctt,     ^  The  Pretender* 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  147 

Thy  founding  arms  his  gallic  patron  hears 
And  fpeeds  his  flight  nor  overtakes  his  fears, 
Till  hard  defpair  wring  from  the  tyrant's  foul 
The  iron  tears  out.     Let  thy  frown  controul 
Our  angry  jarrs  at  home,  till  wrath  fubmit 
Her  impious  banners  to  thy  facred  feet. 
Mad  zeal  and  phrenzy,  with  her  murderous  train, 
Flee  thefe  fweet  realms  in  thine  aufpicious  reign, 
Envy  expire  in  rage,  and  treafon  bite  the  chain. 

Let  no  black  fcenes  affright  fair  Albion's  ftage  : 
Thy  thread  of  life  prolong  our  golden  age, 
Long  blefs  the  earth,  and  late  afcend  thy  throne 
Ethereal  :  (not  by  deeds  are  there  unknown 
Nor  there  unfung  :  for  by  thine  awful  hand 
Heaven  rules  the  waves,  and  thunders 

lands, 
Creates  inferior  kings*  and  gives  'em  their 

mand 

Legions  attend  thee  at  the  radiant  gates  ; 
For  thee  thy  fifter-Seraph,  Blelt  MA&IA,  waits. 

But  oh !  the  parting  ftroke  !  fome  heavenly  power 
Chear  thy  fad  Britons  in  the  gloomy  hour  ; 
Some  new  propitious  ftar  appear  on  high 
The  faireft  glory  of  the  ivejlern  Iky, 
And  ANNA  be  its  name  ;  with  gentle  fway 
To  check  the  planets  of  malignant  ray, 
Sooth  the  rude  north  wind,  and  the  rugged  Bear,  -v 
Calm  rifing  wars,  heal  the  contagious  air,  / 

And  reign  with  peaceful  influence  to  the  fouihern  f 
fphere.  3 

Note,    This  poem  ivas  written  iu  the  year  I705,  in 

that  honorablt  part  of  the  reign  of  our  late  QuEEN,Wj«fl 

N  %  fhc 

*  She  made   Charles,  the   emperor's  fecond  fon 
king  of   Spain,  who  is  now  emperor  of  Germany. 


own, 

lands         ~\ 
o'er  the    I 

icir  com-    1 


i48       LYRIC   POEMS,    Book  II. 

fie  had  broke  the  French  power  at  Blenheim,  offtrtei 
the  right  of  Ch.MU.E3,  the prefent  emperor ',  to  the  crown 
cf  Spain,  exerted  her  zeal for  the  proteftant  fuccefiion, 
and  prom  if ed  inviolably  to  maintain  the  toleration  to 
the  proiefiant  dijfenters.  Thus  fie  appear' d  the  chiej  fup- 
port  of  the  reformation,  and  the  patromTs  of  the  li- 
berties of  Europe. 

The  latter  part  of  her  reign  was  of  a  different  co!our% 
and  was  ky  no  means  attended  with  the  acconipUfiment  of 
ihcre  crlorious  hopes  which  we  had  conceived.  Now,  tlic 
tnufe  cannot  fatisfy  herf  elf  to puhlifi  this  new  edition,  with- 
out acknowledging  the  mlflake  of  her  former  prefag"s  :  a, id 
•while  fie  does  the  world  ibis  jujlice,  fie  does  herfelf  the  hon- 
our of  a  voluntary  retraclion,      Auguft  I,    IJ2I. 


Palinodia. 

BR  I T  O  N  S,  forgive  the  forward  mufe 
That  dar'd  prophetic  fcals  to  locfe, 
(Unfkill'd  in  fate's  eternal  book,) 
And  the  deep  characters  mifrook. 

GEORGE  is  the  name,  that  glorious  ftar  ; 
Ye  fiv.v  his  fplendors  beaming  far  ; 
Saw  in  the  eaft  your  joys  arife, 
When  ANMA  funk  in  w.fiem  fkies, 
Streaking  the  heavens  with  crimfon  gloom 
Emblems  of  Tyranny  and  Rome, 
Portending  blood  and  night  to  come. 
'Twas  GEORGE  diffus'd  a  vital  ray, 
And  gave  the  dying  nations  day  : 
His  influence  fooths  the  Ruffian  Bear, 
Calms  riling  wars,  and  heals  the  air  ; 
Jqin'd  with  the  fun  his  beams  are  huiTd 
Tofcatter  bkfimgs  round  the  world, 


Fulfil 


[Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         149 

Fulfil  whate'er  the  mufe  has  fpoke, 
;  And  crown  the  work  that  ANNE  forfook. 
Augujl  1,  i7ai. 


To  John  Locke,  Esq;   retired  from 
Business. 

I. 

ANGELS  are  made  of  heavenly  things,. 
And  light  and  love  our  fouls  compofe, 
Their  blifs  within  their  bofom  fprings, 

Within  their  bofom  flows. 
But  narrow  minds  ft  ill  make  pretence 
Tofearch  the  coafts  of  fltfh  and  fonfe, 
And  fetch  diviner  pleafures  thence. 
Men  are  akin  to  ethereal  forms, 
But  they  belye  their  nobler  birth,. 
Debafe  theirhonour  down  to  earth, 

And  claim  a  {hare  with  worms. 
II. 
He  that  has  treafures  of  his  own 
May  leave  the  cottage  or  the  throne, 
May  quit  the  globe,  and  dwell  alone 

Within  his  fpacious  mind. 
LOCKE  hath  a  foul  wide  asthefea, 
Calm  as  the  night,  bright  as  the  day, 
There  may  his  vaft  ideas  play, 

Nor  feel  a  thought  confin'd. 


N3  TV 


A 


150     LYRIC     P  6  E  M  S.     Book  II. 

To  JOHN  SHUTE,   £f7.  (voiv  Lord  BarrUgtcn.) 

On  Mr.  Locke's  dangerous  Sichnefs. fomc  time 
after  he  had  retired  to  finely  the  Scriptures. 

I.  June   1704. 

ND  muft  the  man  of  wondrous  mind 
(Now  his  rich  thoughts  are  juft  rerin'd) 
ForfAe  our  longing  tyes? 
Reafon  at  length   fubr.^its  to  wear 
The  wir:gs  vX faith;  and  lo,  they  rear 
Her  chariot  high,  and  nobly  bear, 
Ker  prophet  to  the  ikies; 
II. 
Go,  friend, ^and  wait  The  prophet's  flight, 
Watch  if  his  mantle  chance  to  light 
And  feize  it  for  thy  own  : 
SHUTE  is  the  darling  of  his  years, 
Young  SHUTE  his  better  likenefs  bears, 
Ail  but  his  wrinkles  and  his  hairs 
Are  copy'd  in  his  fon. 
III. 
Thus  when  our  follies  or  our  fault3 
Call  for  the  pity  of  thy  thoughts, 

Thy  pen  (hall  make  us  wife  : 
The  fallies  of  whefe  youthful  wit 
Could  pierce  the  Britifh  fogs  with  light, 
Place  our  true  *  interef.  in  our  fight, 
And  open  half  our  eyes. 


f 


To  Mr.  W  I  L  L  I  A  N    NOKES. 
Friendship. 

I.  170^ 

RIENDSHIP,  thou  charmer  of  the  mind, 
Thou  fvveet  deluding  ill,  The 


*  TifiutereJ  of  England;  written  by  J.  S.  Efq. 


1£I 


The  brighteft  minute  mortals  find, 

And  fharpeft  hour  we  feel. 
II. 
Fate  has  divided  all  our  (hares 

Or  plea'fure  and  of  pain  ; 
In  love  the  comforts  ana   lie  cares 

Are  mix'd  and  join'd  again. 
III. 
But  whilfl  in  floods  our  forrow  rolls, 

And  drops  cf  joy  are  few; 
This  dear  delight  of  mineling  fouls 

Serves  but  to  fweli  our  wee. 
IV. 
Oh  !  why  fhould  Idifs  depart  in  haftc, 

And  friendfhjp  ftay  to  moan? 
Why  the  fond  pufiion  cling  fo  faft, 

When  every  joy  is  gong  ? 
V. 
Yet  never  let  cur  hearts  divide, 

Nor  death  diffoive  the  chain  ; 
For  love  and  joy  were  once  ally'd, 

And  muft  be  join'd  again. 


TO  NATHANIEL  GOULD,  Efq. 

Nov/  Sir  NATHANIEL  GOULD. 

I.  1704. 

>rTP  1  S  not  by  fplendonr,  or  by  (late, 

X     Exalted  mein.  or  lofty  gait, 
My  mufe  takes  meafure  of  a  king  ? 
If  wealth,  or  height,  or  bulk  will  do, 
She  calls  each  mounrair  of  Peru 

A  more  majeflic  thing.  Frown 


1^2       LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  IT. 

Frown  on  me,   friend,  if  t'er  I  boaft 
O'er  fellow  minds  enflav'd  in  clay, 
Or  fwell  when  I  fhall  have  engroft 
A  larger  heap  of  fhining  duft, 
And  wear  a  bigger  load  of  earth  than  they. 
Let  the  vain  world  falute  me  loud, 
My  thoughts  look  inward,  and  forget 
The  founding  names  of  high  and^a/, 
The  flatteries  of  the  crowd. 
II. 
When  GOULD  commands  his  fhips  to  run. 
And  fearch  the  traffic  of  the  fea, 
His  fleet  o'ertakes  the  falling  day, 
And  bears  the  ivsjlern  mines  away, 
Or  richer  fpices  from  the  rifing  fun  ; 
While  the  glad  tenants  of  the  fhore 
Shout,  and  pronounce  him  fenator,* 

Yet  ftill  the  man's  the  fame  : 
For  well  the  happy  merchant  knows 
The  foul  with  treafure  never  grows, 
Nor  fwells  with  airy  fame. 
III. 
But  truft  me,  GOULD,  'tis  lawful  pride 
To  rife  above  the  mean  controul 
Of  flefh  andfenfe,  to  which  we're  ty'd  ; 
Thi6  is  ambition  that  becomes  a  foul. 
We  fleer  our  courfe  up  thro'  the  fkies  ; 
Farewel  this  barren  land  :. 
Wc  ken  the  heavenly  fhore  with  longing  eyes. 
There  the  dearwealthoffpiritslies, 
And  beckoning  angels  ftand. 

To 


*  Mcmbtr  *f  Pafliemintfor  a  fort  in  Suflcx. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  Sec.        153 
To  Dr.    THOMAS     GIESON. 
The  Life   of  Souls. 


1.  1704. 

SWIFT  as  the  Sun  revolves  the  day 
We  haften  to  the  dead, 
Slaves  to  the  wind  we  puff  away, 

And  to  the  ground  we  tread. 
'Tis  air  that  lends  us  life,  when  firfi 

Th§  vital  bellows  heave  : 
Our  flefii  we  borrow  of  the  duft;  " 
And  when  a  mother's  care  has  nuril 
The  babe  to  manly  fize,  we  muft 
Withufury  pay  the  grave. 
II. 
Rich  juleps  drawn  from  precious  ore 

Still  tgo3  the  dying  flame  : 
And  plants,  and  roots,  of  barbarous  name, 

Torn  from  the  Indian  fhore. 
Thus  we  fupport  our  tott'ring  fiefh, 

Our  cbeeks  refume  the  rote  afrelh, 
When  Bark  and  Steel  play  well  their  game 

To  fave  our  finking  breath, 
And  GIBSON,  with  his  awful  power, 
Rtfcues  the  poor  precarious  hour 
From  the  demands  of  death. 
III. 
But  art  and  nature,  pow'rs  and  charms, 
And  drugs,  and  recipes,  and  forms, 
Yield  us,  at  laft,  to  greedy  worms 
A  dcfpicable  prey  ; 
I'd  have  a  life  to  call  my  own, 
That  (hall  depend  on  heaven  alone  ; 
Nor  air,  nor  earth,  nor  fea, 

Mix 


i54    LYRIC    POEMS.      Book  H. 

Mix  their  bafe  effences  with  mine, 
Nor  claim  dominion  fo  divine 

To  give  me  leave  to  be. 
IV. 
Sure  there's  a  mind  within,  that  reign* 
Orer  the  dull  current  of  my  veins  : 
I  feel  the  inward  pulfe  beat  high 
With  vig'rous  immortality 
Let  earth  refume  the  flefh  it  gave, 
And  breath  diffolve  amongft  the  winds ; 
GIBSON,  the  things  that  fear  a  grave, 
That  I  can  lofe,  or  you  can  fave, 

Are  not  akin  to  minds. 
V. 
We  claim  acquaintance  with  the  fkies, 
Upward  our  fpirits  hourly  rife, 

And  there  our  thoughts  employ  : 
When  heaven  fhall  fign  our  grand  releafe, 
We  are  no  ftrangers  to  the  place,. 

The  buflnefs,  or  the  joy. 


False  Greatness. 

I. 

MYLO,  forbear  to  call  him  blefl 
That  only  boaft  a  large  eftate, 
Should  all  the  treafures  of  the  iveft 
Meet,  and  confpire  to  make  him  great 
I  know  thy  better  thoughts,  I  know 
Thy  reafon  can't  defend  fo  low. 
Let  a  broad  ftream  with  golden  fand*. 

Thro*  all  his  meadows  roll, 
He's  but  a  wretch    with  all  his  lands,. 

That  wears  a  narrow  foul. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         155 

II. 

He  f wells  amidft  his  wealthy  ftore, 
And  proudly  poizing  what  he  weighs, 
In  his  own  fcale  he  fondly  lays 

Huge  heaps  of  fhining  ore. 
rle  fpreads  the  balance  wide  to  hold 

His  manors  and  his  farms, 
And  cheats  the  beam  with  loads  of  gold 

He  hugs  between  his  arms, 
So  might  the  plough  boy  climb  a  tree, 

When  Crsefus  mounts  his  throne, 
And  both  ftand  up,  and  frnile  to  fee 

How  long  their  fhadow's  grown. 
Alas  !  how  vain  their  fancies  be 

To  think  that  fhape  their  own  ! 
III. 
Thus  mingled  ftill  with  wealth  and  Hate, 
Craefus  himfelf  can  never  knew; 
His  true  dimenfions  and  his  weight 

Are  far  inferior  to  their  fhow. 
Were  I  fo  tall  to  reach  the  pole, 
Or  grafp  the  -ocean  with  my  fpan, 
I  mult  be  mcafur'd  by  my  foul : 
The  mind's  the  ftandard  of  the  man. 


To  Sarissa.     An  Epistle. 

BEAR  up  SARISSA,  thro' the  ruffling  ftorms 
Of  a  vain  vexing  world  :  tread  down  the  caree 
Thofe  ragged  thorns  that  lie  acrofs  the  road, 
Nor  fpend  a  tear  upon  them.     Truft  the  mufe, 
She  fingsexperieue'd  truth  :  this  briny  dew, 
This  rain  of  eyes  will  make  the  briars  grow. 
We  travel  thro'  a  defert,  and  our  feet 

Have 


i56     LYRIC     POEMS,     Book  II. 

Have  meafur'd  a  fair  fpace,  have  left  behind 

A  thoufand  dangers,  and  a  thoufand  fnares 

Well  Tcap'd.     Adieu,  ye  horrors  of  the  dark, 

Ye  firiihVd  labours,   and  ye  tedious  toils 

Of  days  and  hours  :  The  twinge  of  real  fmart, 

And  the  falfe  terrors  cf  ill-boding  dreams 

Vanifh   together,  be  alike  forgot, 

For  ever  blended  in  one  common  grave. 

Farewel,  ye  waxing  and  ye  waning  moons, 
That  we  have  watch'd  behind  the  flying  clouds 
On  night's  dark  hill,    or  fetting  or  afcending, 
Or  in  meridian  height  :  Then  filence  reign'd 
O'er  half  the  wrorld;  then  ye  beheld  our  tears, 
Ye  witnefs'd  our  complaints,  our  kindred  groans, 
(Sad  harmony  !)  while  with  your  beamy  horns 
Or  richer  orb  ye  filver'd  o'er  the  green 
Where  trod  our  feet,  and  lent  a  feeble  light 
To  mourners.     Now  ye  have  fulflll'd  your  round, 
Thofehoursare  fled,  farewel.     Months  that  are  gone 
Are  gone  for  ever,  and  have  borne  away 
Each  his  own  load.     Our  woes  and  forrows  paft, 
Mountainous  woes,  ftill  leffen  as  they  fly 
Far  off.     So  billows  in  a  ftormy  fea, 
Wave  after  wave   (a  long  fucceffion)  roll 
Beyond  the  ken  of  fight  :   the  failors  fafe 
Look  far  a  ftern  till  they  have  loft  the  ftorm  ; 
And  fhout  their  boiilerous  joys.     A  gentler  mufe 
Sings  thy  dear  fafety,  and  commands  thy  cares 
To  dark  oblivion  ;  bury'd  deep  in  night 
Lofe  them  SARISSA,  and  aflift  my  fong. 

Awake  thy  voice,  flng  how  the  {lender  line 
Of  fate's  immortal  NOW  divides  the  paft 
From  all  the  future,  with  eternal  bars 
Forbidding  a  return.    The  paft  temptations 

No 


Sacred  to  Devotion-,  &c.         157 

No  more  fkall  vex  us  ;  every  grief  we  feel 
-Shortens  the  deftin'  d  number ;  every  pulfe 
Beats  a  fharp  moment  of  the  pain  away, 
-And  the  laft  ftroke  will  come.     By  fwift  degrees 
Time  fweeps  us  off ;  and  we  fhall  foon  arrive 
At  life's  fweet  period  :    O  celeiiial  point 
That  ends  this  mortal  ftory  ! 

But  if  a  glimpfe  of  light  with  flattering  ray 
Breaks  thro'  the  clouds  of  life,  or  wandring  fire 
Amidft.  the  (hades  invite  your  doubtful  feet, 
Beware  the  dancing  meteor  :  faithlefs  guide, 
That  leads  the  lonefome  pilgrim  wide  aftray 
To  bogs  and  fens,  and  pits,  and  certain  death  ! 
Should  vicious  pleafure  take  an  angel  form 
And  at  a  diftance  rife  by  flow  degrees, 
Treacherous,  to  wind  herfelf  into  your  heart, 
Stand  firm  aloof;   nor  let  the  gaudy  phantom 
Too  long  allure  your  gaze  :  the  juft  delight 
That  heaven  indulges  lawful,  muft  obey 
Superior  powers ;  nor  tempt  your  thoughts  too  fa? 
In  flavery  to  fenfe,  nor  fwell  your  hope 
To  dang'rous  fize  ;  if  it  approach  your  feet 
And  court  your  hand,  forbid  th'  intruding  joy 
To  fit  too  near  your  heart  :  ftill  may  our  louls 
Claim  kindred  with  the  ikies,  nor  mix  with  duft 
Our  better  born  affections  ;  leave  the  globe 
A  neftfor  worms,  and  haften  to  our  home. 

O  there  are  gardens  of  th'  immortal  kind 
That  crown  the  heavenly  EJens,  rifing  hills 
"With  beauty  and  with  fweets  ;  no  lurking  mifchief 
Dwells  in  the  fruit,  nor  ferpent  twines  the  boughs ; 
The  branches  bend  laden  with  life  and  blifs 
Ripe  for  the  tafte,  but  'tis  a  fteep  afcent : 
Hold  fail  the  *  golden  chain  let  down  fromheav'n, 
O  'Twill 

*  %be  Go/pel 


158     LYRIC    POEMS.      Book  II. 

Twill  help  your  feet  and  wings;   I  feel  its  force 

Draw  upwards ;  falten'd  to  the  pearly  gate 

It  guides  the  way  unerring  :  happy  clue 

Thro'  this  dark  wild  !  'twas  wifdom'snobleft  work, 

All  join'd  by  power  divine,  and  ev'ry  link  is  love. 


To  Mr.  T.  Bradbury. 
Paradise. 

I.  170?. 

YOUNG  as  I  am  I  quit  the  ftage, 
Nor  will  I  know  the  upplaufes  of  the  age ; 
Farewel  to  growing  fame.     I  leave  below 
A  life  not  half  worn  out  with  cares, 
Or  agonies,  or  years  ; 
I  leave  my  country  all  in  tears, 
But  heaven  demands  me  upward,  and  I  dare  to  go. 
Amongft  ye,  friends,  divide  and  fhare 

The  remnant  of  my  days, 
If  ye  have  patience,  and  can  bear 
A  long  fatigue  of  life,  and  drudge  thro'  all  the  race. 
II. 
Hark,  my  fair  guardian  chides  my  flay, 

And  waves  his  golden  rod  : 
Angel,  I  come  ;  lead  on  the  way  : 

And  now  by  fwift  degrees 
I  fail  aloft  thro'  azure  feas, 

Now  tread  the  milky  road  : 
Farewel,  ye  planets,  in  your  fpheres : 
And  as  the  ftars  are  loft,  a  brighter  fky  appears. 

In  hafte  for  paradife 
I  ftretch  the  pinions  of  a  bolder  thought ; 

Scarce 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  15-9 

Scarce  had  I  will'd,  but  I  was  pafl 
Deferts  of  tracklefs  light  and  a'.lth'  ethereal  wafte, 

And  to  the  facred  borders  bro't ; 
There  on  the  wing  a  gmrd  of  cherubs  lies, 

Each  waves  a  keen  flame  as  fee  flies, 
And  well  defends  the  walls  from  lieges  and  furprife. 
III. 
With  pleafing  rev'rence  I  behold 
The  pearly  portals  wide  unfold  : 
Enter,  my  foul,  and  view  th'  amazing  fcenes ; 
Sit  fafc  upon  the  flying  mufe, 

And  let  thy  roving  wonder  loofe 
O'er  all  th'  empyreal  plains. 
Noon  Hands  eternal  here  :  here  may  thy  fight 
Drink  in  the  rays  of  primogenial  light ; 
Here  breathe  immortal  air  ; 
Joy  maft  beat  high  in  ev'ry  vein, 
Pleafure  thro'  all  thy  bofom  reign  ; 
The  laws  forbid  the  ftranger,  pain, 
And  baniih  every  care. 
IV. 
See  how  the  bubbling  fprings  of  love 

Beneath  the  thrcne  arife  ; 
Theftreams  in  cryftal  channels  move, 
Around  the  golden  flreets  they  rove, 
And  biefs  the  manfioas  of  the  upper  ikies. 
There  a  fair  grove  of  knowledge  grows, 
Nor  fin  ncr  death  infecrs  the  fruit ; 
Young  life  hangs  frtfh  en  all  the  boughs, 

And  fprings  from  every  root ; 
Here  may  thy  greedy  fenfes  feaft 
While  extacy  and  health  attends  on  every  tafte. 

With  the  fair  profpeel:  charm'd  I  fiood  : 
Fearlefsl  feed  on  the  delicious  fare, 
And  drink  profufe  falvation  from  the  filver  flood, 
Nor  can  excels  be  there.  V. 


s6o     LYRIC     POEMS,    Book  II. 

V. 

In  facred  order  rang'd  along 

Saints  new-releas'd  by  death 
Join  the  bold  feraph's  warbling  breath,, 

And  aid  the  immortal  fong. 
Kach  has  a  voice  that  tunes  his  firings 
To  mighty  founds,  and  mighty  things, 

Things  of  everlafting  weight, 
Sounds,  like  the  fofter  viol,  fvveet, 

And,  like  the  trumpet,  ftrong.. 
Divine  attention  held  my  foul, 
I  was  all  ear! 
Thro*  all  my  pov/'rs  the  heavenly  accents  roll. 

I  long'd  and  wifh'd  my  BRADBURY  there; 
"  Could  he  but  hear  thefe  notef,  1  faid, 
U  His  tuneful  foul  wou'd  never  bear 
"  The  dull  unwinding  of  life's  tedious  thread, 
"  But  burft  the  vital  chords  to  reach. the.  happy  dead- 
VI. 
And  now  my  tongue  prepares  to  join: 
The  harmony,  r»nd  with  a  noble  aim.. 

Attempts  th'  unutterable  name 
But  faints,  confounded  by  the  notes  divine  : 
Again  my  foul  th'  unequal  honour  fought, 

Again  her  utmoft  force  fhe  brought, 
A  nd  bow'd  beneath  the  burden  of  th'  unweildy  tho't. 

Thrice  I  effay'd,  and  fainted  thrice  ; 
Th'  immortal  labour  flrain'd  my  feeble  frame, 
Broke  the  bright  vifion,  and  diflolv'd  the  dream  ^ 
1  funk  at  once  and  loft  the  fkies  : 
In  vain  I  fought  the  fcenes  of  light 
Rolling  abroad  my  longing  eyes, 
Tor  all  around  'em  flood  n.y  curtains  and  the  night. 

Strict 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  161 


Strict  Religion  very   rare, 

I. 

I'M  bcrne  aloft,  and  leave  the  crowd', 
1  fail  upon  a  morning  cloud 
Skirted  with  dawning  gold  ; 
Mines  Lyes  beneath  the  opening  day 
Command'the-ginbe  with  wide  furvey, 
Where  ants  in  bufy  millions  play, 
And  tug  and  heave  the  mould. 
II. 
*e  Are  thefe  the  things  (my  paffion  cry'd) 
**  That  we  call  men  ?  Are  chefe  aliy'd 

"  To  the  fair  worlds  of  light  ? 
w  They  have  raz'd  out  their  Maker's  name, 
f*  Grav'n  on  their  minds  with  pointed  flame 
.*'  In  ftrokes  divinely  bright.. 
III. 
M  Wretches  !  they  hate  their  native  Ikies; 
w  If  an  ethereal  thought  arife, 

"  Or  fpark  of  virtue  fhine, 
M  With  cruel  force  they  damp  its  plumes, 
**  Choke  the  young  fire  with  fenfual  fumes, 
"  With  bufinefs,  lull  or  wine. 
IV. 
"  Lo  !  how  they  throng  wdth  panting  breath 

"  The  broad  dcfcending  road 
*l  That  leads  unerring  down  to  death, 

"  Nor  mifs  the  dark  abode." 
Thus  while  I  drop  a  tear  or  two 
On  the  wild  herd,  a  noble  few- 
Dare  to  ftray  upward,  and  purfue 
Th'  unbeaten  way  to  Gob. 


V. 


i 62    L  YR TO  POEM Sr     Book  II, 
v. 

I  meet  Myrtillo  mounting  high, 
I  know  his  candid  foul  afar; 
Here  Dorylusand  Thyrfis  fly 

Each  like  a  rifing  ftar, 
Charin  I  faw  and  Finea  there, 
I  Lw  them  help  each  other's  flight,. 

And  blefs  them  as  they  go  ; 
They  foar  beyond  mylub'ring  fight, 
And  leave  their  loads  of  mortal  care, 

But  not  their  love  I  eicw. 
On  heav'n,  their  home,  they  fix  their  eyes,. 

The  temple  of  their  God  : 
"With  morning  incenfe  up  they  rife 
Sublime,  and  thro'  the  lowe:  fkies- 

Spread  the  perfumes  abroad. 
VI. 
Acrofs  the  road  a  feraph  flew, 
"Mark  (faidhe)  that  happy  pair, 
'*'  Marriage  helps  devotion  there  ; 
"  When  kindred  minds  their  God  purfue 
«*  They  break  with  double  vigour  thro' 

"  The  du'l  inevmr  crt  air  »' 
Charm'd  with  the  pleafure  and  furprifc 

My  foul  adores  and  fmgs, 
"  Bleft  be  the  power  that  iprings  their  flight, 
"  That  flreaks  their  path  with  heavenly  light, 
M  That  turns  their  love  tofacrifice, 

"  And  joins  their  zeal  for  wings." 


To  Mr.  C.  and  S.  Fleetwood. 

T. 
LEETWOODS,  young  generous  pair, 
Defpife  the  joys  that  fools  purfue ; 

Bubbles 


FLEE' 
Defpi 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  163 

Bubbles  are  light  and  brittle  too, 
Born  of  the  water  and  the  air, 
Try'd  by  a  ftandard  bold  and  uft 
Honour  and  gold  are  paint  and  duft  ; 
How  vile  the  laft  is,  and  as  vain   the  firfl  £ 
Things  that  the  crowd  call  great  and  brave, 
With  me  how  low  their  values  brought  I 
Tit  es  and  names,  and  life  and  breath. 
Slaves  to  the  wind  and  born  for  death  %. 
The  foul's  the  cnly  thing  we  have 
Worth  an  important  thought. 

II. 
The  foul !  'tis  of  the  immortal  kind, 
Ner  form*d  of  fire,  or  earth  or  wind, 
Out  lives  the  mouldring  corpfe,  and  leaves  the  globe- 
behind. 
In  limbs  of  clay  tho'  (he  appears, 
Am.y'd  in  rofy  fkin,  and  deck'd  with  ears  and  eye*, 

The  flefh  is  bur  the  foul's  difgurfe, 
There's  nothing  in  her  frame  kin  to  the  drefs  fhe 
wears :  , 

From  all  the  laws  of  matter  free, 
Horn  all  we  feel,  and  all  we  fee, 
She  Hands  eternally  diiHndr.,  and  muffc  for  ever  be. 
III. 
Rife  then,  my  thoughts,  on  high, 
Soar  beyond  all  that's  made  to  diej 
JLo  !  on  an  awful  throne 
Sits  the  creator  and  the  judge  of  fouls, 

Whirling  the  planets  round  the  poles, 
Winds  off  our  threads  of  life,  and  brings  our 

periods  on. 
Swift  the  approach,  and  folemn  is  the  day, 
When  this  immortal  mind 
Stript  of  the  body's  coarfe  array 


r64       LYRIC   POEM  S,     Book  II, 

To  endlefs  pain  or  endlefs  joy 

Muit  be  at  once  confin'd. 
IV. 
Think  of  the  fands  run  down  to    ra  fce, 
We  poifefs  none  of  all  the  pail. 
None,  bw  the  prefent  is  our  own  ; 
Gr«tce  ib  '\o:  plac'd  within  cur  p 
*Tis  but  one  ftiort,  .-ne   fhining  hour, 
Bright  and  dc:  ..ling  as  a  fettvngTnn, 

See  the  white  minutes  wing'd  with  haf:c  ;; 
The  NOW  that  flies  may  be  the  lafl  ; 
Seize  the  falvation  e'er  'tis  pafl, 

Nor  mourn  the  blefCngs  gone  ; 
A  thought's  d-Jay  is  ruin  here, 
A  doling  eye,  a  gafping  breath, 
Shuts  up  the  golden  fcenein  death, . 

And  drowns  you  in  defpair. 


To  William  Blackbourn,   Esq. 

Czfunir.  Lib.  »'.  Od.  2.  imitated. 
Ova  iegit  canas  n.odo  Brutr.a  italics  ^   &C. 
I. 

MARK  how  it  fnows  !  how  fait  the  valley  fills! 
And  the  fweet  groves  the  hoary  garment  wear; 
Yet  the  warm  fun  beams  bounding  from  the  hills 
Shali  melt  the  veil  away,  and  the  young  green 
appear. 

II. 
But  when  old  age  has  on  your  temples  fhed 
Her  filver  froft,  there's  no  returning  fun  ; 
Swift  flies  our  autumn,  fwift  our  fummer's  fled, 
When  youth,  and  love;  and  fpring,  and  golden  joy» 
are  gene.. 

III. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         165 

ITT. 

Then  cold,  and  winter,  and  your  aged  fnow,. 
Stick  faft  upon  you  ;  not  the  rich  array, 
Not  the  green  garland,  nor  the  rofy  bough 
Shall  cancel  cr  conceal  the  melancholy  grey.. 

IV. 
The  chafe  of  pleafure  is  not  worth  the  pains, 
While  the  bright  fands  of  health  run  wafting  dowaj, 
And  honour  calls  you  from  the  fofter  fcenes, 
To  fell  the  gaudy  hour  for  ages  of  renown. 

V. 
*Tis  but  one  youth,  and  ihort,  that  mortals  have 
And  one  old  age  diffolves  our  feeble  frame  ; 
But  there's  a  heavenly  art  t'  eiude  the  grave, 
And  with  the  hero  race  immortal  kindred  claim. 

VI. 
The  man  that  has  his  country's  facred  tears- 
Bedewing  his  cold  hearfe,  has  liv'd  his  day  t 
Thus,  BLACKBOURN,    we   Ihould  leave  our 

names  or  heir 
Old  time  and  waning  moons  fween  all  the  reft  awav. 


True   Monarchy. 

1701* 

TH  E  rifing  year  beheld  th'  imperious  Gaul 
Stretch  his  dominion,  while  a  hundred  towns 
Crouch'd  to  the  vicior  :   but  a  fteady  foul 
Stands  firm  on  its  own  bafe,  and  reigns  as  wide, 
As  abfolute  ;  and  fways  ten  thoufand  flaves, 
Lufts  and  wild  fancies  with  a  fovereign  hand. 

We  are  a  little  kingdom;  but  the  man 
That  chains  his  rebel  will  to  reafon's  throne, 
Forms  it  a  large  one,  wbilft  his  royal  mind 
Makes  heaven  its  council  from  the  rolls  above 
£>raws  his  own  ftatutes,  and  with  joy  obeys. 

'Ti* 


»66     LYRIC     POEMS.    Book  II.  1 

'Tis  not  a  troop  of  well  appointed  guards 
Creates  a  monarch,  nor  a  purple  robe 
Dy'd  in  the  people's  blood,  not  ail  the  crowns 
Or  dazzling  tiars  that  bend  about  the  head, 
Tho'  gilt  with  fun  beams  and  fet  round  with  ftsrs 
A  monarch  he  that  conq-uers  all  his  fears, 
And  treads  upon  them  ;  when  he  frands  alone, 
Makes  his  own  camp  ;  four  guardian  virtues  wair 
His  nightly  {lumbers,  and  fecure  his  dreams. 
Now  dawns  the  light ;  he  ranges  all  his  thovghts 
Infqrare  battalions,  bold  to  meet  th'  attacks 
Of  time  and  chance,  himfelf  a  numerous  heft, 
All  eye,  all  ear,  all  wakeful  as  tbe  day, 
Firm  as  a  rock,  and  movelefs  as  the  centre. 
In  vain  tbe  harlot,  pleafure,  fpreads  hsr  charms, 
To  lull  his  thoughts  in  luxury's  fair  lap, 
To  fenfual  eafe,   (the  bane  of  little  kings, 
Monarchs  whofe  waxen  images  of  fouls 
Are  molded  into  foftnefs)  ftiil  his  mind 
Wears  its  own  fliape,  nor  can  the  heavenly  form 

Of  the  mad  vulgar,  that  unthinking  herd. 

He  lives  above  the  crowd,  nor  hears  the  noife 
Of  wars  and  triumphs,  nor  regards  the  fhouts 
Of  popular  applaufe,  that  empty  found  ; 
Nor  feels  the  flying  arrows  of  reproach, 
Or  fpite  or  envy.     In  himfelf  fecure, 
Wifdom  his  tower,  and  confeience  is  his  ihield, 
His  peace  all  inward  and  his  joys  his  own. 

Nov/  my  ambition  fwell?,   my  wifhes  foar, 
This  be  my  kingdom  :  fit  above  the  globe 
My  rifing  foul,  and  drefs  tbyfelf  around, 
And  fhing  in  virtue's  armour,  climb  the  height 
Of  wifdom's  lofty  caftle,  there  refide 
Safe  from  the  fmiiing  and  the  fj  owning  world. 

Yet 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         J'67 

Yet  once  a  day  drop  down  a  gentle  look 
On  the  gr&at  mole-hill,  and  with  pitying  eye 
Survey  the  bufy  emmets  round  the  heap, 
Crowding  and  buftiing  in  a  thoufand  fbrms 
Of  ftrife  and  toil,  to  purchafe  wealth  and  fame, 
A  bubble  or  a  d«ft  :   then  call  thy  thoughts 
Up  tothyfelf  to  feed  on  joys  unknown, 
Rich  without  gold,  and  great  without  renown. 

True   Courage. 

HONOURdemandsrnyfong.  Forget  the  ground! 
My  generous  mufe,  and  fit  amongft  the  ftars, 
There  fing  the  loul,  that,  confciousof  her  birth, 
Lives  like  a  native  of  the  vital  world, 
Amongftthefe  dying  clods,  and  bears  her  Hate 
Tuft  to  herfelf  :  how  nobly  me  maintains 
Her  character,  fuperior  to  the  flefh, 
She  wields  her  pallions  like  her  limbs,  and  knows 
The  brutal  powers  were  only  born  t'  obey. 

This  is  the  man  whom  ftorms  could  never  make 
Meanly  complain ;  nor  can  a  flatt'ring  gale 
Make  him  talk  proudly;  he  hath  no  defire 
To  read  his  fecret  fate ;  yet  unconcern'd 
j  And  calm  could  meet  his  unborn  deftin.y, 
In  all  its  charming,  or  its  frightful  fhapes, 
He  that  unfhrinking,  and  without  a  groan^ 
.  Bears  the  firft  wound,  may  finifh  all  the  war 
With  meer  courageous  filence,  and  come  off 
Conqueror  :  for  the  man  that  well  conceals 
The  heavy  ftrokesof  fate,  he  bears  'cm  well. 

He,  tho'  th'  Atlantic  and  the  Midland  feas 
With  adverfe  furges  meet,  and  rife  on  high 
Sufpended  'twixt  the  winds,  then  rufh  amain 
Mingled  with  flames,  upon  his  Angle  head, 
And  clouds,  and  flaw,  and  thunder,  firm  he  {lands, 

Secure 


i68       LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  II. 

Secure  of  his  beft  life ;  unhurt,  unmov'd; 
And  drops  his  lower  nature,  born  tor  death. 
Then  from  the  lofty  caftle  of  his  mind 
Sublime  looks  down,  exulting,  and  furveys 
The  ruins  of  creation  ;   (fouls  alone 

Are  heirs  of  dying  -worlds  ;  J   a  piercing  glance 
Shoots  upwards  from  between  his  clofing  lids, 
To  reach  his  birth-place,  and  without  a  figh 
He  bids  his  batter'd  flefh  lie  gently  down 
Amongil  its  native  rubbifh  ;   while  the  fpirit 
Breathes  and  flies  upwards,  an  undoubted  gueft 
Of  the  third  heaven,  th'  unruinablefky. 

Thither,  when  fate  has  brought  our  willing  fouls, 
No  matter  whether  'twas  a  fharp  difeafe, 
Or  a  fharp  fword,  that  help'd  the  travellers  on, 
And  pufh'd  us  to  our  home.     Bear  up,  my  friend, 
Serenely,  and  break  thro'  the  flormy  brine 
With  fteady  prow ;  know,  ye  fhall  once  arrive 
At  the  fair  haven  of  eternal  blifs, 
To  which  we  ever  fleer;  whether  askings 
Of  wide  command  we've  fpread  the  fpaciousfea 
With  a  broad  painted  fleet,  or  row'd  along 
In  a  thin  cock- boat  with  a  little  oar. 

There  let  my  narrow  plank  fhift  me  to  land 
And  I'll  be  happy :  thus  I'll  leap  afhore 
Joyful  and  feariefs  on  th'  immortal  coaft, 
Since  all  I  leave  is  mortal,  and  it  muft  be  loft. 

„   ,  , , _— 

To  the  much  Honoured  Mr.  THOMAS  ROWE, 
The  DirexSlor  of  my  Youthful  Studies. 

Free  Philosophy. 
I. 

CUSTOM,  that  tyrannefs  of  fools, 
That  leads  the  learned  round  the  fchools, 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.        169 

In  magic  chains  of  forms  and  rules ! 

My  genius  ftornis  her  throne ; 
No  more,  ye  Haves,  with  awe  profound 
Beat  the  dull  track,  nor  dance  the  round ; 
Loofe  hands,  and  quit  th'  inchanted  ground  : 

Knowledge  invites  us  each  alone. 
II. 
I  hate  thefe  fhackles  of  the  mind. 

Forg'd  by  the  haughty  wife; 
Souls  were  not  born  to  be  confin'd, 
And  led,  like  Sampfon,  blind  and  bound  ; 
But  when  his  native  ftrength  he  found 

He  well  aveng'd  his  eyes. 
I  love  thy  gentle  influence ,  ROWE, 
Thy  gentle  influence  like  the  fun, 
Only  diflolves  the  frozen  fnow, 
Then  bids  ©ur  thoughts  like  rivers  flow, 
And  chufe  the  channels  where  they  run. 
III. 

Thoughts  fhould  be  free  as  fire  or  wind  ; 

The  pinions  of  a  fingle  mind 
Will  through  all  nature  fly  : 

But  who  can  drag  up  to  the  poles 

Long  fetter'd  ranks  of  leaden  fouls  ? 

A  genius  which  no  chain  controuls 

Roves  with  delight,  or  deep  or  high  ; 

Swift  I  furvey  the  globe  around, 
Dive  to  the  centre  thro'  the  folid  ground, 
Or  travel  o'er  the  iky. 


T© 


170     LYRIC    POEMS.      Book  IL 

To  the  Reverend  Mr.  BEN'ONI    R  O  W  E. 
The  Way   or   the   Multitude. 

I. 

ROW  E,  if  we  make  the  crowd  our  guide 
Thro'  life's  uncertain  read, 
Mean  is  the  thafe;  and  wandering  wide 

We  mils  th'  immortal  good  ; 
Yet  if  my  thoughts  could  be  cenfin'd 
To  follow  any  leader  mind, 
I'd  mark  thy  fteps,  and  tread  the  fame  : 
Dreft  in  thy  notions  I'd  appear 
Not  like  a  foul  of  mortal  frame, 
Nor  with  a  vulgar  air. 
H. 
Men  live  at  random  and  by  chance, 
Bright  reafon  never  leads  the  dance  ; 
Whilft  in  the  broad  and  beaten  way 

O'er  dales  and  hills  from  truth  we  flray, 
To  ruin  we  defcend,  to  ruin  we  advance. 
Wifdom  retires;  fhe  hates  the  crowd, 
And  with  a  decent  fcern 
Aloof  fhe  climbs  her  fleepy  feat, 
Where  nor  the  grave  not  giddy  feet, 
Of  the  learn'd  vulgar  or  the  rude, 
Have  e'er  a  paffage  worn. 
III. 
Meer  hazard  firft  began  the  track, 
Where  cuftom  leads  her  thoufands  blind 

In  willing  chains  and  firong  ; 
There'sfcarce  one  bold,  one  noble  mind, 
Dares  tread  the  fatal  error  back  ; 
But  hand  in  handourfelves  wc  bind 
And  diag  the  age  along. 


■         Sacred  i&  Devotion,  &c-         171 
IV. 
Mortals,  a  fa vage  herd,  and  loud 
As  billows  on  a  noify  Hood 

in  rapid  order  roll  : 
Example  makes  the  mifchief  good  : 
With  jocund  heel  we  beat  the  road, 

Unheedful  of  the  goal. 
Me  let  *  Ithuriel's  Friendly  wing 
Snatch  from  the  crowd,  and  bear  fubilrne 

To  wifdom's- lofty  tower, 
Thence  to  furvey  than  wretched  thing, 
Mankind  ;  and  in  exalted  rhime 

Blefs  the  delivering  power. 


To  the  Rev.  Mr.  JO  II  N  H  O  W  E, 

I.  1704- 

Gi  REAT  man-,  permit  the  mufe  to  climb 
r  And  feat  her  at  thy  feet, 
Bid  her  attempt  a  thought  fublime, 

And  confecrate  her  wit. 
1  feel,  I  feel  th'  attractive  force 

Of  thy  fuperior  foul  : 
My  chariot  flies  her  upward  courfe, 

The  wheels  divinely  roil. 
Now  let  me  chide  the  mean  affairs 

And  mighty  toil  of  men  : 
How  they  grow  grey  in  trifling  cares^ 
Gr  wafle  the  motions  of  the  fpheres 
Upon  delight3  as  vain  ! 

P  %■  If. 

*  Ithiarie!  is  tut  nante'vf'an  angd  in  Milton's  paradife 
loft  ■•- 


i72       LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  II. 

II. 

A  puff"  of  honour  fills  the  mind, 
And  yellow  duft  is  folid  good  : 
Thus  like  the  afs  of  favage  kind, 
We  fmiffthe  breezes  of  the  wind, 

Or  fceal  the  ferpent's  f<s>od. 
Could  all  the  choirs 
That  charm  the  poles 

Eut  flrike  one  doleful  found, 
'Twculd  be  employ'd  to  mourn  our  fouls, 
Souh  that  were  fram'd  of  fprightly  n:c> 

In  floods  of  folly  drown'd. 
Souls  made  of  glory  feek  a  brutal  joy ; 

How  they  difclaim  their  heavenly  birch,, 
Jvlclt  their  bright  fubfiance  down  with  drofiy  earth, 
And  hate  to  be  refin'd  from  that  impure  alloy. 

III. 
Oft  has  thy  genius  rous'd  us  hence 

With  elevated  fong, 
Bid  us  renounce  this  world  of  fenfe, 
Bid  us  divide  th'  immortal  prize 

With  the  feraphic  throng  . 
"  Knowledge  and  love  makes  fpirits  bleft, 
"  Knowledge  their  food,  and  love  their  reft"  ; 
Eut  rlefh,  th'  unmanageable  beaft, 
Rcfnls  the  pity  of  thine  eyes, 

And  muiic  of  thy  tongue. 
Then  let  the  worms  of  groveling  mind 
Hound  the  fhort  joys  cf  earthly  kind 

In  reftlefs  windings  roam  ; 
HOWE  hath  an  ample  orb  of  foul, 
Where  filming  worlds  of  knowleJge  roll, 
Where  love  the  centre  and  the  pole 

Compleats  the  heaven  achome. 

The 


Sacred  id  Devotion*,  &c         173 

The  Disappointment  and  Relief. 
I. 

VIRTUE,  permit  my  fancy  to  impels 
Upon  my  better  pow'rs  : 
She  cafts  fw-eet  fallacies  on  half  our  woes, 

And  gilds  the  gloomy  hours. 
How  could  we  bear  this  tedious  round 
Of  waining  moons,  and  rolling  years,. 
Of  flaming  hopes  and  chilling  fears> 
If  (where  no  fevereign  cure  appears) 
No  opiates  could  be  found. 

II. 
Love,  the  mod  cordial  ftream  that  flows, 
Is  a  deceitful  good  : 
Young  Doris,  who  nor  guilt  nor  danger  knows,. 

On  the  green  margin   flood, 
Pleas'd  with  the  golden  bubbles  as  they  role, 
And  with  more  golden  fands  htr  fancy  pav'd  the 
flood ; 
Then  fond  to  be  entirely  bleft, 
And  tempted  by  a  fakhlefs  youth, 
As  void  of  goodnefs  as  of  truth, 
She  plunges  in  with  heedlefs  hafte, 

And  rears  the  nether  mud  : 
Darknefs  and  naufeous  dregs  arife 
O'er  thy  fair  current,  love,  with  large  fapplies 
Of  pain  to  teaze  the  heart,  and  forrow  for  the  eyes 
The  golden  blifs  that  charm'd  her  fight 
Is  dalh'd  and  drown'd,  and  loft  : 
A  fpark,  or  glimmering  ftreak  at  mod, 
Shines  here  and  there  amidft  the  ni^ht, 
Amidft  theturbid  waves,  and  gives  a  faint  delight, 
III; 
Recover'd  from  the  fad  furprife, 
J}oris  awakes  at  lafl, 

£  3  Grown 


174     LYRIC     POEMS.    Book  II, 

Grown  by  the  disappointment  wife  ; 
And  manages  with  art  th'  unlucky  cafi  ; 
When  the  low'ring  frown  fhe  fpies 
On  her  haughty  tyrant's  brow, 
With  humble  love  fhe  meet?  hib  wrathful  eyes, 

And  makes  her  Sovereign  beauty  bow  ;    * 
Chearful  fhe  fmiles  upon  her  grifly  form  ; 
So  fnines  the  fetting  fun  on  adverfe  fkies, 

And  paints  a  rainbow  on  the  Storm. 
Anon  fhe  lets  thefullen  humour  fpend, 

And  with  a  virtuous  book,  or  friend, 
Beguiles  th'  uneafy  hours  : 

Well  colouring  every  crofs  fhe  meets, 

With  heart  ferene  fhe  fleeps  and  eats, 

She  fpreads  her  board  with  fancy'dfweet$, 

And  Strews  her  bed  with  flow'rs. 


The  Hero's  School  of  Morality. 

T HERON,  a mongft  his  travels,  found, 
A  broken  ftatue  on  the  ground  ; 
And  fearching  onward,  as  he  went 
H;  trac'd  a  ruin'd  monument 
Mould,  mofs,  and  fhades  had  overgrown 
The  Sculpture  of  the  crumbling  ftone, 
Yet,  e'er  he  pad,  with  much  ado, 
He  guefs'd,  and  fpell'd  out,  Scj-pi-o. 

«'  Enough,  he  cry'd  ;  I'll  drudge  no  more 
{i  In  turning  the  dull  Stoicks  o'er  : 
"  Let  pedants  wafte  their  hours  of  cafe 
««  To  fweat  all  night  at  Socrates; 
-V  And  feed  their  boys  with  notes  and  rules, 
**.  Thofe  tedious  recipes  of  Schools 


To 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         175 

"  To  cure  ambition  :  I  can  learn 
x  With  greater  eafe,  the  great  concern 
i  Of  mortals ;   now  we  may  deipife 
"All  the  gay  things  below  the  Ikies. 
"  Methinks  a  mouidring  pyramid 
"  Says  ail  that  the  old  fages  laid ; 
"  For  me  thefe  fhatter'd  tombs  contain 
««  More  morals  than  the  Vatican. 
U  The  dull  of  heroes  caft  abroad, 
"  And  kick'd,  and  trampled  in  the  road, 
•'  The  relicks  of  a  lofty  mind  ^ 

"  That  lately  wars  and  crowns  defign'd,      >■ 
"  Toft  for  a  jeft  from  wind  to  wind,  J 

•'  Bid  me  be  humble,  and  forbear  "\ 

'«  Tall  monuments  of  fame  to  rear,       > 
"  They  are  but  caflles  in  the  air.  3 

ft  The  tow 'ring  heights,  and  frightful  falls, 
f*  The  ruin'd  heaps,  and  funerals, 
"  Of  fmoaking  kingdoms  and  their  kings, 
**  Tell  me  a  thoufand  mournful  things 

*'  In  melancholy  filence, 

« l -He 

"  That  living  could  not  bear  to  fee 

"  An  equal,  now  lies  torn  and  dead  ; 

"  Here  his  pale  trunk,  and  there  his  head  ; 

"  Great  Pompey  !  while  I  meditate, 

"  Withfolemn  horror,  thy  fad  fate, 

"  Thy  carcafs,  fcatter'd  on  the  fhore 

"  Without  a  name,   inftru&s  me  more, 

"  Than  my  whole  library  before. 

"Lieftill,  my  Plutarch,  then,  andfkep, 

"  And  my  good  Seneca  may  keep 

'*  Your  volumes  clos'd  for  ever  too, 

"  I  have  no  further  ufe  for  you  : 

"  For  when  I  feel  my  virtue  fail, 

11  And  my  ambitious  thoughts  prevail,  i"  I  " 


i.jS'.    LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  II, 

"  I'll  take  a  turn  unong  the  tombs,. 
"  And  fee  whereto  all  glory  comes  ; 
**  There  the  vile  foot  of  every  clown 
"  Tramples  the  ifons  of  honour  down. 
"  Beggars  with  awful  afiiesfport, 
"  And  tread  the  Catfars  in  the  dirt. 


Freedom. 

1*  1697.. 

TEMPT  me  no  more.  My  foul  can  ne'er  comport; 
With  the  gay  flayeries  of  a  court  : 
I've  an  averfton  to  thofe  charms, 
And  hug  dear  liberty  in  both  mine  arms. 
Go,  vaffal-fouls,  go,  cringe  and  wait,. 
And  dance  attendance  at  Honorio's  gate, 
Then  run  in  troops  before  him  to  compofe  his  ftatefl 
Move  as  he  moves  ;  and  when  he  loiters,  ftand  ; 
You're  but  the  fhadowsof  a  man. 
Bend  when  he  fpeaks ;   and  kifs  the  ground  : 
Go,  catch  th'  impertinence  of  found  : 
Adore  the  follies  of  the  great  ; 
"Wait  till  he  fmiles  :   but  lo,  the  idol  frown'dl 
And  drove  them  to  their  fate. 
II.. 
Thus  bafe-born  minds  ;  but  as  for  me, 
I  can  and  will  be  free  : 
Like  a  (hong  mountain,  or  fome  {lately  tree,, 
My  foui  grows  firm  upright, 
And  as  I  ftand,  and  as  I  go, , 
It  keeps  my  body  fo  : 

No  I  can  never  part  with  my  creation  right. 
Let  fiaves  and  affes  ftoop  and  bow, 
I  cannot  make  this  iron  knee 
Bend  to  a  meaner  power  than  that  which  form'd  it 
free.  HI. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  177 

III. 

Thus  my  bold  harp  profufely  play'd 
Pindarical ;  then  on  a  branchy  {hade 
I  hung  my  harp  aloft,  myfelf  beneath,  it  laid, 

Nature  that  liften'd  to  my  drain, 
Refum'dthe  theme,  and  adled  it  again. 

Sudden  rofe  a  whirling  wind 

Swelling  like  Honorio  proud, 

Around  the  draws  and  feathers  crowd, 
Types  of  a  flavifh  mind  ; 

Upwards  the  ftormy  forces  rife, 

The  dull  flies  up  and  climbs  the  Ikies, 
And  as  the  tempefl  fell  th'  obedient  vapours  funk  .* 
Again  it  roars  with  bellowing  found, 

The  meaner  plants  they  grew  around, 
The  willow,  and  the  afp,  trembled  and  kifs'd  the 
ground  1 

Kard  by  there  flood  the  iron  trunk 
Of  an  old  oak,  and  all  the  ftorm  defy'd  ; 

In  vain  the  winds  their  forces  try'd, 

In  vain  they  roar'd  ;  the  iron  oak 
Bow'd  only  to  the  heavenly  thunder's  flroke. 


On  Mr.  LOCK'S  Annotations  upon  feveral  Parts 
of  the  New-Testament,  left  behind  him  at 
his  Death. 

THUS  reafon  learns  by  flow  degrees, 
What  faith  reveals;  but  flill  complains 
Of  intellectual  pains, 
And  darknefs  from  the  too  exuberant  light. 
The  blaze  of  thofe  bright  myfteries 
Four'd  all  at  once  on  nature's  eyes 
Offend  and  cloud  her  feeble  fight.  II." 


i7&       LYRIC  POE  M  S,     Book  % 
II. 

Reafon  could  fcarcc  fuftain  to  fee 

Th'  almighty  one  th'  eternal  three, 

Or  bear  the  infant  deity; 

Scarce  could  her  pride  defcend  to  own 

Her  maker  {looping  from  his  throne, 

And  dreft  in  glories  fo  unknown. 

A  ranfom'd  world,  a  bleeding  God, 

And  heav'n  appcas'd  with  flowing  blood, 
Were  themes  too  painful  to  be  underftcod. 
III. 

Faith,  thou  bright  cherub,  fpeak,  and  fay, 

Did  ever  mind  of  mortal  race 

Coil  thee  more  toil,  or  larger  grace 

To  melt  and  bend  it  to  obey. 
'Twas  hard  to  make  fo  rich  a  foul  fubmit, 

And  lay  her  mining  honoursatthy  fovereign  feet*. 
IV. 

Sifter  of  faith,  fair  charity, 

Shew  me  the  wond'rous  man  on  high, 

Tell  how  he  fees  the  God-head  three  in  one  f 

The  bright  conviction  fills  his  eye, 
His  nobleft  powers  in  deep  profixaticn  lye 

At  the  myfeerious  throne. 

"  Forgive  he  cries,  ye  faints  below 

"  The  wav'ring  and  the  cold  affeRt 

'*  I  gave  to  themes  divinely  true; 

•'  Can  you  admit  thebltffed  to  repent  ? 
•'  Eternal  darknefs  vail  the  lines 
"  Of  that  unhappy  book, 

"  Where  glimmering  reafen  with  falfeluftrefhinesi 
•'  Where  the  mere  mortal  pen  mifiook 
"  What  the  celeftial  meant !" 
See  Mr.  LoCKt's  Annotations  on  Rom.    hi.  25,  and 
garajiirafi  on  Rom.  ix    5,  iibub  has  inclined  fame  rea* 
1  dtrt 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  179 

tiers  to  doubt,  -whether  he  believed  the  deity  and 'fjihJaHron 
%f  C,H  Rl  ST.  Therefore  in  the  forth  fanza  I  invoke  Cha- 
rity, that  by  her  help  Imayfndhim  out  in  heaven,  fince 
his  notes  on  2  Cor.  V.  ult.  and  fine  ether  places,  give  me 
reafon  to  believe  he  ivas  no  Socinian  tho'  he  has  -darken  d 
the  o-lory  of  the  gofpel,  and  debafed '  Jirifiianity,  in  the  book 
ivhich  he  calls  the  Reafonablenefs  of  it,  and  in  fame  of 
his  other  works. 


True  Riches. 

I  AM  not  concern'd  to  know 
What  to-morrow  fate  will  do  x 
Tis  enough  that  I  can  fay, 
I've  pofleft  myfelf  to-day  i 
Then  if  haply  midnight  death 
Seize  my  fiefh,  and  ftop  my  breath, 
Yet  to-morrow  I  ihall  be 
Heir  to  the  beft  part  of  me. 

Glittering  ftones,  and  golden  things, 
Wealth  and  honours  that  have  wings, 
Ever  fluttering  to  be  gone, 
I  could  never  call  my  own  : 
Riches  that  the  world  beftows, 
She  can  take,  and  I  can  lofe; 
But  the  treafures  that  are  mine 
Lie  afar  beyond  her  line. 
When  I  view  my  fpacious  foul, 
And  furvey  myfelf  a  whole., 
And  enjoy  myfelf  alone, 
I'm  a  kingdom  of  my  own. 

I've  a  mighty  part  within 
That  the  world  hath  never  feen, 
Rich  as  Eden's  happy  ground, 
And  with  choicer  plenty  crown'd.  Here 


i8o     LYRIC    POEMS,      Book 

Kere  on  all  the  fhining  boughs 
Kuowledge  fair  and  ufeful  grows; 
On  the  fame  young  flow'ry  tree 
All  the  feafons  you  may  fee; 
Notions  in  the  bloom  of  light, 
Juft  difclofing  to  the  fight; 
Here  are  thoughts  of  larger  growth, 
Rip'ning  into  folid  truth  ; 
Fruits  refm'd  of  noble  tafte  ; 
Seraphs  feed  on  fuch  repaft. 
Here  in  a  green  and  fhady  grove, 
Streams  cf'pleafure  mix  with  love  : 
There  beneath  the  fmiling  fkies 
Hills  of  contemplation  rife  ; 
Now  upon  fome  fhining  top 
Angels  light,  and  call  me  up  ; 
I  rejoice  to  raife  my  feet, 
Both  rejoice  when  there  we  meet; 
There  are  endlefs  beauties  more 
Earth  hath  no  refemblance  for  ; 
Nothing  like  them  round  the  pole, 
Nothing  can  defcribe  the  foul ; 
'Tis  a  region  half  unknown, 
That  has  treafures  of  its  own 
More  remote  from  public  view 
Than  the  bowels  of  Peru ; 
Broader  'tis,   and  brighter  far, 
Than  the  golden  Indies  are ; 
Ships  that  trace  the  watr'y  ftagc, 
Cannot  coaft  it  in  an  age  , 
Harts,  or  horfes,  ftrong  and  fleet, 
Had  they  wings  to  help  their  feet, 
Could  not  run  it  half  way  o'er 
In  ten  thoufand  days  or  more. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,   &c.        iSi 

Yet  the  filly  wandring  mind, 
Loth  to  be  too  much  confin'd, 
Roves  and  takes  her  daily  tour3, 
Coafcing  round  the  narrow  fhores, 
Narrow  ihores  of  fiefh  and  fenfe, 
Picking  fhells  and  pubbles  thence  : 
Or  fhe  fits  at  fancy's  door, 
Calling  fhapes  and  fhadows  to  her, 
Foreign  vifits  flill  receiving, 
And  t'  herfelf  a  ftranger  living. 
Never,  never  would  fhe  buy 
Indian  duft,  or  Tyrian  dye, 
Never  tread  abroad  for  more, 
If  fhe  faw  her  native  ftore. 
If  her  inward  worth  were  known, 
She  might  ever  live  alone. 


The  Adventurous  Muse. 

I. 

URANIA  takes  her  morning  flight 
With  an  inimitable  wing  : 
Thro'  rifing  deluges  of  dawning  light 

She  cleaves  her  wondrous  way, 
She  tunes  immortal  anthems  to  the  growing  day; 
Nor  *  Rapin  gives  her  rules  to  fly,    nor  f  Purceli 
notes  to  fing. 

II. 
She  nor  enquires,  nor  knows,  nor  fears   „ 
"Where  lie  the  pointed  rocks,  or  where  the  ingulph- 

ing  fand, 
Climbing  the  liquid  mountains  of  the  fkies 
She  meets  defcending  angels  as  fhe  flies, 
Nor  afks  them  where  their  country  b'es, 

CL  Or 

*  A  French  Criiick,    f  An  Englifh  majler  of  mufttk. 


i82     LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  II, 

Or  where  the  fea  marks  fiand, 
Touch'd  with  an  empyreal  ray, 
She  fprings,  unerring,  upward  to  eternal  day, 

Spreads  her  white  fails  aloft,  and  fteers, 
With  bold  and  fafe  attempt,  to  the  celeftial  land. 

III. 
Whilft  little  fluffs  along  the  mortal  fhores 

With  humble  toil  in  order  creep, 
Coafting  in  fight  of  one  another's  oars, 
Nor  venture  thro'  the  boundlefs  deep. 
Such  low  pretending  fouls  are  they 
Who  dwell  inclofs'd  in  folid  orbs  of  Ikull ; 

Plodding  along  their  fober  way, 
The  fnail  o'ertakes  them  in  their  wildeft  play, 
While  the  poor  labourers  fweat  to  be  correctly  dull . 

IV.) 
Give  me  the  chariot  whole  diviner  wheels 

Mark  their  own  rout,  and  unconfin'd 
Bound  o'er  the  everlafting  hills, 
And  lofe  the  clouds  below,  and  leave  the  ftars  be- 
hind. 
Give  me  the  mufe  whofe  generous  force, 

Impatient  of  the  reins, 
Purfues  an  unattempted  courfe, 
Breaks  all  the  criticks  iron  chains, 
And  bears  to  paradife  the  raptur'd  mind. 
V. 
There  Milton  dwells :  the  mortal  fung  ; 
Themes  not  prefum'd  by  mortal  tongue  ; 
New  terrors,  or  rew  glories,  fhine 
In  ev'ry  page,  and  flying  fcenes  divine 
Surprise  the  wond'ring  fenfe,  and  draw  our  fouls 
along. 
Behold  his  mufe  fent  out  t*  explore 
The  unapparent  deep  where  waves  of  chaos  roar, 

And 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  Sec,  183 

And  realms  of  night  unknown  before. 
She  trat'd  a  glorious  path  unknown, 
Thro'  fields   of  heavenly  war,  and  feraphs  over- 
thrown , 
Where  his  advent'rous  genius  led  : 
Sovereign  Ihe  fram'd  a  model  of  her  own, 

Nor  thank'd  the  living  nor  the  dead. 
The  noble  hater  of  degenerate  rhime 
Shook  off  the  chains  and  built  his  verfe  fublime, 
A  monument  too  nigh  for  coupled  founds  to  climb. 

He  mourn'd  the  garden  loft  below  ; 
(Earth  is  the  fcene  for  tuneful  woe) 
Now  blifs  beats  high  in  all  his  veins, 
Now  the  loft  Eden  he  regains, 
Keeps  his  own  air,  and  tiiumphsin  unrival'd  {trains. 

VI. 
Immortal  bard  !  thus  thy  own  Raphael  fings. 

And  knows  no  rule  but  native  fire  ; 
All  heav'n  fits  filent,  while  to  his  fovereign  firings 

He  talks  unutterable  things  ; 
With  graces  infinite  his  untaught  fingers  rove 
Acrofs  the  golden  lyre  : 
From  every  note  devotion  fprings, 
Rapture,  and  harmony  and  love, 
Cerfpread  the  lift'ning  choir. 


To  Mr.  NICHOLAS    CLARK. 

The  Complaint. 
I. 
'fl^W  A  S  in  a  vale  where  ofiers  grow 
X     By  murm'ring  ftreams  we  told  our  woe, 
And  mingled  all  our  cares  : 

Q^a  Friendfhip 


i84      LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  II. 

Friendfhip  fat  pleas'd  in  both  cur  eyes, 
In  both  the  weeping  dews  arife, 

And  drop  alternate  tears. 
IT. 
The  vigorous  monarch  of  the  diy 
Now  mounting  half  his  morning  way 

Shone  with  a  fk.nter  bright; 
Still  fickning,  and  decaying  fl III, 
Dimly  he  vander'd  up  the  hill, 

With  his  expiring  light. 
Iff- 
In  dark  eclipfe  his  chariot  rcll'd, 
The  queen  of  night  obfeur'u  his  gold 

Behind  her  fable  wheels  : 
I-Tature  grew  fad  to  lofe  the  day, 
The  fiuw'ry  vales  in  mourning  lay, 

In  mourning  flood  the  hills. 
IV. 
Such  are  or r  forrows,  CLARK,  I  cry'd, 
Clouds  of  the  brain  grow  biack  and  hide 

Our  dark'ned  fouls  behind  ; 
In  the  young  morning  of  our  years 
Diftempering  Cogs  have  climb'd  the  fpheres. 

And  choke  the  lab  Ting  mind. 
V. 
I,c,  the  gay  planet  rears  his  head, 
And  overlooks  the  lofty  (hade, 

New-bright'ning  all  the  fkiesj 
But  fay,  dear  partner  of  my  moan, 
When  will  our  long  eclipfe  be  gone, 

Or  when  our  funs  arife  ? 
VI. 
In  vain  are  potent  herbs  apply'd, 
Harmonious  founds  in  vain  have  try'd 

To  make  the  darkneisfly: 

But 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.  i8j 

But  drugs  would  raife  the  dead  as  foon, 
Or  clatt'ring  brafs  relieve  the  moon, 

When  fainting  in  the  fky. 
VII. 
Some  friendly  fpirit  from  above, 
Born  of  the  light,  and  nurft  with  love, 

Aflifl  our  feebler  fires; 
Force  thefe  invading  glooms  away; 
Souls  mould  be  feen  quite  thro'  their  clay, 

Bright  as  your  heavenly  choirs. 
VIII. 
But  if  the  fogsmuft.  damp  the  flame, 
Gently,  kind  death,  diflolve  our  frame, 

Releafe  the  prifoner-mind  : 
Our  fouls  fhall  mount,  at  thy  difcharge, 
To  their  bright  fource,  and  fhine  at  large 

Nor  clouded,  nor  confin'd. 


The  Afflictions  of  a  pRiENry. 

I.  170a, 

NO  W  let  my  cares  all  bury'd  lie, 
My  griefs  for  ever  dumb  : 
Your  forrows  fwell  my  heart  fo  high. 
They  leave  my  own  no  room. 
II. 
Sicknefs  and  pains  are  quite  forgot, 

The  fpleen  itfelf  is  gone ; 
Plung'd  in  your  woes  I  feel  them  not, 
Or  feel  them  all  in  one. 
III. 
Infinite  grief  puts  fenfe  to  flight, 
And  all  the  foul  invades: 


<U  $v 


i86       LYRIC  POEMS,    Book  I  ft 

So  the  broad  gloom  of  fpreading  night 

Devours  he  evening  ihades. 
IV. 
This-  am  I  born  to  be  unbkft? 

1  his  fympathy  of  woe 
Drives  my  own  tyrants  from  bybrcaft 

'T  admit  a  foreign  foe. 
V. 
Sorrows  in  long  fucceffion  reign; 

Their  iron  rod  I  feci : 
Friendfhip  has  only  chang'd  the  chain, 

But  I'm  the  pris'ner  ftill. 
VI. 
Why  was  this  life  for  mifery  made? 

Or  why  drawn  out  fo  long? 
Is  there  no  room  amongft  the  dead? 

Or  is  a  wretch  too  young? 
VII. 
Move  fader  on  great  nature's  wheel, 

Be  kind  ye  rolling  powers, 
Hurl  my  days  headlong  down  the  hill 

With  uudiftinguifh'd  hours. 
VIII. 
Be  dulky,  all  myrlStfg  f.ns, 

Nor  fmile  upon  a  Have  : 
Darknefs and  death,  make  hafte  9t  once 

To  hide  me  in  the  grave. 


The  Reverse:  Or    the  Comfortj   of  a 
Friend. 
I 
ry^HUS  nature  tunM  her  mournful  tongue, 
X      Till  grace  lift  up  her  head, 
Pvtvers'd  the  fbnrow  and  the  fong, 

And  failing,  thus  fhe  faic:  H. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         187 

IT. 

Were  kindred  fpirits  born  for  cares? 

Mnft  every  grief  be  mine? 
Is  their  a  fympathy  in  tears, 

Yet  joys  rcfufe  to  join  ? 

ur. 

Forbid  it,  beav'n,  and  raife  my  love, 

And  make  our  joys  the  fame : 
So  bills  and  friendfhip  join'ri  above 
Mix  an  immortal  flame. 
IV. 
Sorrows  are  loft  in  vafr  delight 
That  brightens  all  the  foul, 
As  deluges  of  dawning  light 
O'erwhelni  the  duiky  pole. 
V. 
Pleafures  in  long  fucceSlon  reign, 

And  all  my  powers  employ: 
Friendfhip  but  fhifts  the  pieafing  fcene, 
And  frefh  repeats  the  joy. 
VI. 
Life  has  a  foft  and  filver  thread, 

Nor  is  it  drawn  too  long ; 
Yet  when  my  vafler  hopes  perfuade, 
I'm  willing  to  be  gone. 
VII. 
Faft  as  ye  pleafe,  roll  down  the  hill, 

And  haft  away,  my  years ; 
Or  I  can  wait  my  father's  will, 
And  dwell  beneath  the  fpheres, 
VIII. 
Rife,  glorious,  every  future  fun, 

Gild  all  my  following  days, 
But  make  the  Iaft  dear  moment  known 
By  well  diftinguifh'd  raye; 

To 


188     LYRIC    POEMS.      Book  II. 

To  the  Pvight  Honourable  JOHN  Lord  CUTS. 
At  the  Siege  of  Namur. 

The    Hardy    Soldier. 

I. 

ts  •"%  Why  is  man  fo  thoughtlefs  grown  ? 
\_S   "  Why  guilty  fouls  in  hafte  to  die  ? 
'•  Vent'ring  the  leap  to  the  worlds  unknown,. 
"  Heediefs  to  arms  and  blood  they  fly. 

II. 
**  Are  lives  but  worth  a  foldier's  pay  ? 
*'  Why  will  ye  join  fuch  wide  extreams, 
"  And  flake  immortal  fouls,  in  play 
•*  At  defperate  chance,  and  bloody  games  ? 

Ill, 
**  Valcur\  a  nobler  turn  of  thought, 
M  Whofe  pardon'd  guilt  forbids  her  fears: 
•'  Calmly  flie  meets  the  deadly  fhot> 
"  Secure  of  life  above  the  ftars. 

IV. 
"  "But frenzy  dares  eternal  fate, 
"  And  fpurr'd  with  honour's  airy  dreams, 
"  Flies  to  attack  th'  infernal  gate, 
M  And  force  a  paffage  to  the  flames." 

V. 
Thus  hov'ring  o'er  NAMURIA's  plains, 
Sung  heav'niy  love  in  Gabriel's  form  : 
Young  THRASO  left  the  moving  Arams, 
And  vow'd  to  pray  before  the  ftorm. 

VI. 
Anon  the  thundering  trumpet  calls; 
Votvi  are  but  ivindy  the  hero  cries; 
;  Then  fvvears  by  heav'n  andfcalesthe  walls, 
Props  in  the  ditch,  Ueipairs  and  dies. 

Bl/RNJNS 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c.         189 

Burning    several    Poems    of    Ovid, 
Martial,  Oldham,  Dryden,  «£c. 

I.  1708. 

I  Judge  the  mufe  of  lewd  defire  •; 
Her  fons  to  darknefs,  and  her  works  to  fire. 
In  vain  the  flatteries  of  their  wit 
Now  with  a  melting  (train,  now  with  an  heavenly 
flight,      . 
Would  tempt  my  virtue  to  approve 
Thofe  gaudy  tinders  of  a  lawlefs  love. 

So  harlots  drefs  :  they  can  appear 
Sweet,  modeft,  cool,  divinely  fair, 
To  charm  a  Cato's  eye  ;  but  all  within, 
Stench,  impudence  and  6re,  and  ugly  raging  fin. 
II. 
Die,  Flora,  die  in  endlefs  fhame, 
Thou  profritute  of  blacked  fame, 

Stript  of  thyfuife  array. 
Ovid,  and  all  ye  wilder  pens 
Of  modern  luft,  who  gild  our  fcenes, 
Poifon  the  Dritiih  ftage,  and  paint  damnation  gay, 

Attend  your  miftrefs  to  the  dead  ; 
When  Flora  dies,  her  imps  fhould  wait  upon  her 
fhade. 

HI. 
*  Strephon  of  noble  blood  and  mind, 
(For  ever  fhine  his  name!) 
As  death  approach'd,  his  foul  refm'd, 
And  gave  his  Iooler  fonncts  to  the  fiarre. 
"  Burn,  burn,  he  cry'd  with  facre&rage, 
"  Hell  is  the  due  of  every  page, 
"  Hell  be  the  fate.     (But  O  indulgent  heaven! 
"  So  vile  the  mufe,  and  yet  the  man  forgiv'n!) 

"  Burn 
*   Earl  of  Kocbejleri 


190    LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  II. 

*'  Burn  on  my  fongs :  for  not  the  filver  thames, 

"  Nor  Tyber  with  his  yellow  ftreams, 
'*  In  endlefs  currents  rolling  to  the  main, 
"  Can  e'er  dilute  the  poifcn,  or  walh  out  the  flak 
So  Mofes  by  divine  command, 
Forbid  the  leprous  houfe  to  ftand 
"When  deep  the  fatal  fpot  was  grown, 
Break  doivn  the  timber ,   and  dig  up  thejlone. 


To  Mrs.    B.    B  E  N  D  I  S  H. 
Against  Tears. 

I.  i6g£, 

MADAM,  perfuade  me  tears  are  good 
To  waft  our  mortal  cares  away  ; 
Thefe  eyesfhall  weep  a  futfden  flood, 
And  flrcam  into  a  briny  fea, 

II. 
Or  if  thefe  orbs  are  hard  and  dry, 
(Thefe  orbs  that  never  ufe  to  rain) 
Some  fiar  direct  me  where  to  buy 
One  foverejgn  drop  for  all  my  pain. 

III. 
W  ere  both  the  golden  Indies  mine, 
I'd  give  both  Indies  for  a  tear: 
I'd  barter  all  but  what's  divine  : 
Nor  fhall  I  think  the  bargain  dear. 

IV. 
But  tears,  alas!  are  trifling  thing?, 
They  rather  feed  than  heal  our  woe; 
From  trickling  eyes  new  forrow  fprings, 
As  weeds  in  rainy  feafous  grow. 


Sacred  to  Devotion,  &c,         191 
V. 

Thus  weeping  urges  weeping  on  : 
In  vain  our  miferies  hope  relief, 
For  one  drop  calls  another  down, 
Till  we  are  drown' d  in  feas  of  grief. 

VI. 
Then  let  thefe  ufelefs  ftr  earns  be  ftaid, 
Wear  native  courage  on  your  face  : 
Thefe  vulgar  things  were  never  made 
For  fouls  of  a  fuperior  race. 

VII. 
If  'tis  a  rugged  path  you  go, 
And  thoufand  foes  your  fteps  furround, 
Tread  the  thorns  down,  charge  thro'  the  foe : 
The  hardeft  fight  is  higheft  crown'd. 


Few  Happy  Matches. 

I.  Aug.  1 701. 

SAY,  mighty  love,  and  teach  my  fong, 
To  whom  thy  fweeteft  joys  belong, 
And  who  the  happy  pairs 
I  Whofe  yielding  hearts,  and  joining  hands, 
|i  Find  bleffings  twifted  with  their  bands, 
To  i'often  all  their  cares. 
II. 
Not  the  wild  herd  of  nymphs  and  f wains, 
That  thoughtlefs  fly  into  the  chains, 

As  cuftom  leads  the  way  : 
If  there  be  blifs  without  defign, 
Ivies  and  oaks  may  grow  and  twine, 
And  be  as  bleft  as  they. 
III. 

Not  fordid  fouls  of  earthly  mould 
Who  drawn  by  kindred  charms  of  gold,  Ta 


i92     LYRIC     POEMS.    Bookll. 

To  dull  embraces  move : 
So  two  rich  mountains  of  Peru 
May  rufii  to  wealthy  marriage  too, 

And  make  a  world  of  love. 
IV. 
Not  the  mad  tribe  that  hell  infpires 
With  wanton  flame  ;   thofe  raging  fires 

The  purer  blifs  dtftroy  : 

On  ./Etna's  top  let  furies  wed, 
And  fheets  of  lightning  drefs  the  bed 

T'  improve  the  burning  joy. 

Nor  the  dull  pairs  whofe  marble  forms 
None  of  the  melting  pafiions  warms, 

Can  mingle  hearts  and  hands  : 
Logs  of  green  wood  that  quench  the  coals 
Are  marry'd  jufc  like  fcoic  fouls, 
With  ofiers  for  their  bands. 
VI. 
Ncr  minds  of  melancholy  ftrain, 
Still  filent  or  that  flill  complain, 

Can  the  dear  bondage  blefs ; 
As  well  may  heavenly  conforts  fpring 
From  two  old  lutes  with  ne'er  a  firing, 
Or  none  befides  the  bafe. 
VII. 
Nor  can  the  foft  enchantments  hold 
Two  jarring  fouls  of  angry  mould, 

The  rugged  and  the  keeu  : 
Sampfon's  young  foxes  might  as  well 
In  bonds  of  chearful  wedlock  dwell, 
"With  firebands  ty'd  between. 
VIII. 
Nor  let  the  cruel  fetters  bind 
A  gentle  to  a  lavage  mind ; 


Sacred  to  Virtue,      &c.         193 

For  love  abhors  the  fight ; 
Loofe  the  fierce  tyger  from  the  deer, 
For  native  rage,  and  native  fear 

Rife  and  forbid  deligbt. 
IX. 
Two  kindefHouls  alone  muffc  meet, 
'Tis  friendfhip  makes  the  bondage  fweet, 

And  feeds  their  mutual  loves  ; 
Bright  Venus  on  her  rolling  throne 
Is  drawn  by  gentleit  birds  alone, 

And  Cupids  yoke  the  doves. 


To    DAVID    POL  HILL,    Esq. 
An   Epistle. 

I.  December,  1702. 

LE  T  ufelefs  fouls  to  woods  retreat ; 
POL  HILL  fhould  leave  a  country  feat 
"When  virtue  bids  him  dare  be  great. 

II. 
Nor  Kent,*  nor  SufTex,*  fhould  have  charms, 
While  liberty,  with  loud  alarms, 
Calls  you  to  counfels  and  to  arms. 

Ill, 
Lewis,  by  fawning  ffaves  ado r'd, 
Bids  you  receive  a  f  bafe-born  lord; 
Awake  your  cares!  awake  your  fword! 

IV. 
Factions  amongft  the  J  Britons  rife, 
And  warring  tongues,  and  wild  furmife, 
And  burning  zeal  without  her  eyes. 

R  V. 

*   His  country  feat  and  divdling. 

-f  The  pretender,  proclaimed  king  in  Fraw. 

\  The  Parliament 


i94     LYRIC     POEMS,     Book  If 

V. 

A  vote  deckles  the  blind  debate; 
Refolv'd,  "Tis  of  divine*  iveightt 
To  five  the  fceple,  than  the  ft  at:. 

VI. 
The  §  bold  machine  is  form'd  and  joinM 
To  ftretch  the  ccnfcience,  and  to  bind 
The  native  freedom  of  the  mind. 

VII. 
Yourgrandure  fiiades  with  jealous  eye, 
Frown  down  to  fee  their  offspring  lie 
Carelefs,  and  let  their  country  die. 

VIII. 
If  |!  Trevia  fear  to  let  you  fiand 
Agairift  the  Gaul  with  fpear  in  hand, 
At  lead  *  petition  for  the  land. 


The  celebrated  Victory  of  the  Poles  over  Ofmat 
the  TurkiJJi  Emperor,  in  the  Dad  an  Battle, 

Tranflated  from  Cafimer,  B.  I V.  Od.  4.  with  large 
Additions, 

GL  ADOR  the  old,  the  wealthy  and  the  ftrong, 
Chearful  in  years,  (nor  of  the  heroic  mufe 
Unknowing,  nor  unknown)  held  fair  poffeffions 
Where  flows  the  fruitful  Danube:  feventy  fprings 

Smil'd 

§    The  bill  againfl  oceafonal  conformity,    1"J02. 
\\    Mrs.  Polhill  of  the  family  of  the  Lord  Trevor. 
^    Mr.  Polhill  ivas  one  ofthefefve  zealous  gentlemen  zi-h» 
frefented  the  famous  Kentijh  petition  to  the  parliament ',  in  the 
eign  of  iing  William^  to  haften  their  fupf  lies r  in  order  it 
vpport  the  king  in  his  zvar  iviih  Prance. 


Sacred  to  Virtue,   &c.  195 

Smil'd  on  hi3  feed,  and  feventy  harveft  moons 
Fili'd  his  wide  granaries  with  autumnal  joy-: 
Still  he rbfurn'd  the  toil :  and  fame  reports, 
While  he  broke  up  new  ground,  and  tir'J  his  plough 
In  graffy  furrows,  the  tern  earth  oifclos'd 
Helmets,  and  fwords  (bright  furniture  of  war 
Sleeping  in  ruil)  and  heaps  of  mighty  bones. 
The  fun  defcendir.g  to  the  wcfLern  deep 
Bid  him  lie  down  and  reil;   he  loos'd  the  yoke, 
Yet  held  his  wearied  oxen  from  their  food 
With  charming  nunjbeis,  and  uncommon  fong. 
Go,  fellow  labourers,  you  may  rove  fe cure, 
Or  feed  befide  me,  tail  the  greens  and  boughs 
That  you  have  long  forgot;  crop  the  fvveet  herb, 
And  graze  in  fafety,  while  the  viclor  pole 
Leans  on  hisfpear,  and  breathes;  yet  ftill  his  eye 
Jealous  and  fierce.     How  large  old  foldier,  fay, 
How  fair  a  harveft  of  the  flaughter'd  Turks 
Strew'd  the  Moldavian  fields?  what  mighty  piles 
Ql  Vo«.t.  viCitiucnoii,  ana  ui  *««iJ.liail  9?^i 
Fill  and  amaze  my  eyes!  broad  bucklers  lie 
(A  vain  defence)  fpread  o'er  the  pathiefs  lulls, 
And  coats  of  fcaly  fteel,  and  hard  habergeon, 
Deep  bruis'd  and  empty  of  Mahometan  limbt--. 
This  the  fierce  Saracen  wore,   (for  when  a  boy, 
I  was  their  captive,  and  remind  their  drefs:) 
Here  the  Poionians,  dreadful  march'd  along 
In  auguft  port,  and  regular  array. 
Led  on  to  conqueit;  here  the  Turkifh'chief 
Prefumptous  trod,  and  in  rude  order  rang'd 
His  long  battalions,  while  his  populous  towns 
pour'd  out  frefh  troops  perpetual,  dreft'd  in  arms, 
Horrent  in  mail,  and  gay  in  fpangled  pride. 

O  the  dire  image  of  the  bioody  fight 
Thefe  eyes  have  feen/  when  the.  capacious  plain 

R  2  Was 


l96       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

Was  throng'd  with   Dacian   fnears;  when  polifh-'d 

helms, 
And  convex  gold  blaz'd  thick  againffc  the  fun 
Refroring  all  his  beams  !  but  frowning  war 
All  gloomy,  like  a  gather'd  tempeft,  flood 
Wavering  and  doubtful  where  to  bend  its  fall, 
The  {lorni  of  miiiive  fteal   delay'd  a  while 
My  wife  command  ;  fi.'dg'd  arrows  on  the  nerve  : 
And  Scymiter  ana  Sabre  bore  the  iheath 
Relu&anf:   till  the  hollow  brazen  clouds 
Had  bellow'd  from  each  quarter  of  the  field 
Loud  thunder,  and  dbgorg'd  their  fulph'reus  fire. 
Then  banners  wav'd,  and  arms  were  mixed  with  arms. 
Then  javelins  anfwcr'd  javelins  as  they  fled, 
Forboch  fled  biffing  death  :  with  adverfe  edge 
The  crooked  i'aulchicns  met  ;  t.r.d  hideous  noife 
From  clafting  fnieids,  thro'  the  long  ranks  of  war, 
Clang'd  horribie.     A  thoufand  iron  fcorms 
Roar  diverfe  :  and  in  harm  cesfufion  drown 
The  trumpet's  filvcr  Lutv<i:      Q  rude  CiTcrt 
Of  harmony  !  not  all  the  frozen  ftcres, 
Of  the  cold  north  wken  pour'd  in  rattling  hail 
Lain  with   fucK  madriefs  the  Norwegian  plains, 
Orfo  torment  the  air.     Scarce  founds  fo  far 
The  direful  fragor,  when  fome  fouthcrn  biaft 
Tears  from  the  Alps  a  ridge  of  knotty  oaks 
Deep  fang'M,  andanticnt  tenants  of  the  rock  : 
The  maffie  fragment  many  a  rood  in  length 
With  hideous  craft  rolls  down  the  rugged  cliff 
Refiftlefj.  plunging  in  the  fubjecl:  lake 
Cotno  or  Lugaine  -,   th'  afdicled  waters  rear, 
And  various  thunder  al!  the  valley  fills; 
Such  was  the  noife  of  war  :  the  troubled  air 
Complains  aloud,  and  propagates  the  dm 

To 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c.  197 

To  neighbouring  regions  :  rocks  and  lofty  hills 
Beat  the  impetuous  echoes  round  the  Gey. 

Uproar,  revenge,  and  rage,  and  hate  appear 
In  all  their  murderous  forms ,  and  Same  and  blood, 
Andfweat  and  dull  array  the  broad  campaign 
In  horror  :  haity  feet  and  iparkling  eyes, 
And  ail  the  favage  paffions  of  die  foul 
Engage  in  tne  warm  buhnefs  of  the  day. 
Here  mingling  hands,   but  with  no  friendly  gripe, 
Tom  in  the  fight ;   and  breafts  in  clofe  embrace, 
But  mortal,  as  the  iron  arms  of  death. 
Here  words  auitere  of  perillous  command, 
And  valour  fwift  t'  obey  ;  bold  fates  of  arms 
Dreadful  to  fee,  and  glorious  to  relate 
Shine  thro'  the  fi^id  with  moie  furprifing  brightnefs 
Than  glittering  fee  Una  or  fpearss     What  loud  ap- 

plaufe, 
(Bed  meed  of  warlike  toil)  what  manly  fhouts, 
And  yells  unmanly  thro'  the  Battle  ring  ! 
And  hidden  wrath  dies  into  endiefs  fanteV 

Long  did  the  fate  of  war  h..ng  dubious.  Here 
Stood  the  more  num'rous  Turk,  tbe  valiant  Pole 
Fought  here,  more  dreadful,  tho'  with  lefTer  wing*, 

But  what  the  Dahees  or  the  coward  foul 
Of  a  Cydonian,  what  the  fearful  crouds 
Of  bafe  Cilicians  'feapingfrom  the  flaughter, 
Or  Parthian  beafts,  with  all  their  racing  riders, 
What  could  they  mean  againft  th'  intrepid  breaft 
Of  the  purfuing  foe  ?  th*  impetuous  Poles 
Rufh  here,  and  here  the  Lithunian  horfe 
Drive  down  upon  them  like  a  double  bolt 
Of  kindled  thunder  raging  thro'  the  fky 
On  founding  wheels;  or  as  fome  mighty  flood 
Rolls  his  two  torrents  down  a  dreadful  iteerj 
Precipitant  and  bears  along  die  ftreara 

R  3  Rocis, 


3§S     LYRIC    POEMS,       Book  II. 

Hocks,  woods  and  trees,  with  all  the  grazing  herd, 
And  tumbles  lofty  foreft  headlong  to  the  plain. 

The  bold  IBorufEan  fmoaking  from  afar 
Moves  like  a  tempeft  in  a  duflsy  cloud, 
And  imitates  the  artillery  of  heaven, 
The  lightning  and  the  rear.     Amazing  fc  er.e ! 
What  fhowers  of  mortal  hail,  what  flaky  hies 
Burft  from  the  darknefs!  while  the  cohorts  firm 
Met  the  like  thunder,  and  an  equal  fiorm, 
From  hoftile  troops,  but  with  a  braver  mind. 
Undaunted  befoms  tempt  the  ed^c  of  war, 
And  rufh  on  the  fharp  point;  while  baleful  mifchiefs, 
Deaths,  and  bright  dangers  fiev.  acrofs  the  field 
Thick  and  continual,  and  a  thoufand  fouls 
Fled  murmuring  thro'  their  wounds.     I  flood  aloof, 
For  'twas  unfafe  to  come  within  the  wind 
Of  Ruffian  banners,  when  with  whizzing  found, 
Eager  of  glory,  and  profufe  of  life, 
They  bore  dow»  fearlels  on  the  charging  foes 
And   di  ove  them  backward.     Then  the  Turkifh 

moons. 
"Wrnder'd  in  difarray.     A  dark  eclipfe 
Hung  on  the  filver  crefcent,  boding  night, 
I     r     night,  to  all  herfons:  at  length  difrob'd 
The  ftandards  fell ;  the  barbarous  enfigns  torn 
Fle<  with  the  wind,  the  fport  of  angry  heav'n : 
And  a  large  cloud  of  infantry  and  horfe 
Scattering  in  wilddiforder,  fpread  the  plain. 

ixot  noife,  nor  number,  nor  the  brawny  limb. 
Nor  high  built  fize  prevails :   'tis  courage  fights, 
;'l  is  courage  conquers.     So  whole  forreftsfaU 
(A  fp;  cious  ruin)  by  one  fingle  ax, 
And  fieel  well  fharpned  :  fo  a  generous  pair 
Ol  yo'i  ;g  wing'd  eaglets  fright  a  thoufand  doves. 
Vaft  was  the  daughter,  and  the  flow'ry  green 

Drank 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c.  159 

Drank  deep  of  flowing  crimfon.     Veteran  Bands 
Here  niade  their  laii  campaign.  Here  haughty  chiefs 
"Stretcii'd  011  the  bed  of  purple  honour  lie 
Supine,  nor  dream  cf  battle's  hard  event, 
OpprelVd  with  iron  fiumbers,  and  long  night, 
Their  ghcits  indignant  to  the  nether  world, 
Fled,  but  attended  well:  for  at  their  fide 
Some  faithful  Janizaries  ftrew'd  the  field, 
Fall'n  in  juft  ranks  or  wedges,  lanes  or  fquares, 
Firm  as  they  flood;  to  the  V/aribvian  troops 
A  nobler  toil,  and  triumph  worth  their  fight. 
But  the  broad  fabre  and  keen  pool-ax-fiew 
With  fpeedy  terror  thro'  the  febler  herd, 
And  made  rude  havock  and  irregular  fpoil 
Amongfl  the  vulgar  bands  thatown'd  the  name- 
Of  Mahomet.     The  wild  Arabians  fled 
In  fwift  affright  a  thoufand  different  ways 
Thro'  brakes  and  thorns,  and  climb 'd  the  craggy 

mountains, 
Bellowing;  yet  hafiy  fate  o'ertook  the  cry, 
And  poliih  hunters  clave  the  timorous  deer. 

Thus  the  dire  prcfpecl  diftant  fill'd  my  foul 
With  awe ;  till  the  laft  relicks  of  the  war 
The  thin  Edonians  hying  had  difclos'd 
The  ghaftly  piain :   I  took  a  nearer  view, 
IJnfeemly  to  the  light,  nor  to  the  fmell 
Grateful.     What  leads  of  mangled  flefh  and  limbs 
(A  difmal  carnage  !)  bath'd  in  reeking  gore 
Lay  weltring  on  the  ground  ;  while  flitting  gore 
Convuls'dthe  nerves  ftill  fhivering,  nor  had  loft 
All  tafte  of  p^in  !   Here  an  old  Thracian  lies 
Deform'd  with  years,  and  fears,  and  groans  aloud 
Torn  with  frefh  wounds  ;  but  inward  vitals  firm 
Forbid  the  foul's  remove,  and  chain  it  down 
By  the  hard  laws  of  nature,  to  fuftain 

Long 


£oo      LYRlC    POEMS.      Book  IT. 

Long  torment ;  his  wile)  eye-balls  roll  :   his  teeth 
Gnaihing  with  anguifn,  chide  his  lingering  fate. 
Emblazou'd  armour  ipoke  his  high  command 
Among  1  tiie  neighbouring  cL-ad  ;    they  round  their 

lord 
Lay  profrrate;   fome  in  flight  ignobly  {lain, 
Some  to  the  fkies  iKeiE  faces  upwards  turn'd 
Still  brave,  and  proud  to  die  fo>  near  their  prince. 

I  movll  not  far,  and  lo,  at  manly  length 
Two  beauteous  youths  of  richeft  O  t'man  blood 
Extended  on  the  field  ;  in  fri.  ndihip  join'rl, 
Kor  fate  divides  them  :  hardy  warriors  both  ; 
Both  faithful;  drown'd  in  fhow'rs  of  darts  fheyrieffl 
Each  with  his  fhield  fpread  o'er  his  lover's  h._art, 
In  vain  :  for  on  thofe  orbs  of  friendly  brafs 
Stood  groves  of  javelins  ;   fome  alas,  too  deep 
Were   planted  there,  and  thro'  th<  ir  lovely  boiomsr 
Made  painful  avenues  for  cruel  death. 

0  my  dear  native  land,  forgive  the  tear 

1  dropt  en  their  wan  cheeks,  when  ftrong  companion 
Forc'd  from  my  melting  eyes  the  briny  dew, 

And  paid  a.facrifice  to  hoilile  virtue. 
Dacia,  forgive  the  figh  that  wifh'd  the  fouls 
Of  thofe  fair  infidels  fome  humble  place 
Amongft  the  bleft.     "  Sleep,  fleep,  ye  haplefs  pair, 
"  Gently,  Lcry'd,  worthy  of  better  fate, 
"  And  better  faith."     Hard  by  the  general  lay 
Of  Saracen  defcent,  a  grifly  form 
Ereathlefs,  yet  nride  fat  pale  upon  his  front 
In  difapp.pint.ini  nt,  with  afurly  brow 
Louring  in  cha  h,  and  vext;  his  rigid  jaws 
F  aming  with  blood  bite  hard  the  Polifh  fpear. 
In  that  dead  vifage  my  remembrance  reads 
Raia  Caracas  :  in  vain  the  hoafting  fiave 
Promwd  and  footh'd  the  Sultan  thueatning  fierce 

With 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  £zc.  201 

With  royal  ibppers  and  triumphant  fare 
Spread  wide  beneath  Warfovian  filk  and  gold ; 
See  on  the  naked  ground  all  cold  he  lies 
Beneath  the  damp  wide  cov'nng  of  the  air 
forgetful  of  his  word.     How  heaven  confounds 
Iniultirg  hopes  !  with  what  an  awful  fmile 
Laughs  at  the  proud,  that  locien  ail  the  reins 
Tu  their  unbounded  wifhes,  and  leads  on 
Their  blind  ambition  to  a  fharneful  end  ! 

But  whither  am  I  born  ?  this  thought  of  arms 
Fires  rae  in  vain  to  ling  to  fenfelefs  bulls 
What  generous  horfefhouldhear.    Break  off,  my  fong 
My  barbarous  mufe  be  ft  ill  :  immortal  deeds 
Muit  not  be  thus  piophan'u  in  ruhic  vcrfc  : 
The  martial  trumpet,  and  the  following  age, 
And  growing  fame,  fhall  loud  rehearfe  the  fight 
In  founds  of  glory.     Lo,  the  evening  fbr 
Shines  o'er  the  weftem  hill ;  my  oxen,  come, 
The  weii  known  liar  invites  the  labourer  home* 


To  Mr.  Henry   Benbysh. 
Dear  Sir,  Aug.  24,  I7°5« 

rT1rI  E  following  Jong  was  yours  ivben  frjl  compos' d  .* 
cibe  pivfs  then  defer&d  the  general  fate  of  mankind t 
thai  is,  to  be  Hi  match' d ;  and  now  fbe  rejoices  thai  you 
have  efcaped  t>ie  com:?!  oh  m  if  chief,  an.i  that  your  foul  has 
found  its  own  mate,  bet  this  ode  then  congratulate  you 
both.  Grow  mutually  in  more  complete  like nefs  and  Iwet 
Verfvere  and  be  happy. 

Iperfuade  myfelf you  will  accept  from  the  pre/}  what 
the  pen  more  privately  inferib'd  to  you  long  ago  ;  and  I'm 
innogainlefiyeu  Should  take  offence  at  the  fabulous  drefs 


202     L  i  K  1  C     F  V  E  M  S,     Book  II.1 

af  this  poem .-  nor  ivould  iveaier  minus  befca>i:laHx\'c 
it,  iftkey  ivould  give  themfelves  leave  to  reflect  huiv  men 
divine  truths  areffoken  by  the  holy  ivritcrs  hi  v'fions  a;i 
images,  parables  and  dreams,  nor  are  my  ivfir  jrienJ 
ajhamed  to  defend  it,  Jince  the  narrative  is  grave,  j,~l 
the  moral fojujl  and  obvious. 


The  Indian1  Philosopher. 

I.  Sept.  3,   I 

"XT 7*  H  Y  ffrould  ourioys  transform  to  pain? 
^*     Why  gentle  Hymen's  filken  chain 

A  plague  of  iron  prove  : 
BENDY  SH,  'tis  ilrange  the  charm  that  binds 
Millions  of  hands,  mould  leave  their  minds 
At  fuch  a  iooic  from  love. 
II. 
tn  vain  I  fought  the  wondrous  caufe, 
Rang'd  the  wide  fields  of  nature's  laws, 

And  urg'd  the  fcnooTs  ia  vain  ; 
Then  deep  in  thought  within  my  breaffc 
My  foul  retir'd,  and  flumber  drefs'd 
A  bright  inftrucxive  ictne. 
III. 
O'er  the  broad  lands,  and  crofs  the  tide, 
On  fancy's  airy  horfe  I  ride, 

(Sweet  rapture  of  the  mind  !) 
Till  on  the  banks  of  Ganges  flood, 
In  a  tall  antieht  grove  I  Hood 
iov  facred  ufe  defigtj'd. 
IV. 
Hard  by,  a  venerable  prieft, 
Kiu'ri  with  his  God,  the  J'.m,  from  reft, 

Awoke 


Sacred  £c  Virtue.  &c.  203 


Awoke  his  morning  fong ; 
Thrice  he  conjur'd  the  murmhing  fiream  ; 
The  birth  of  fouls  were  all  his  theme, 
\    And  half  divine  his  tongue. 

V. 
■  He  fang  th'  eternal  rolling  flame, 
I  That  vital  mafs,  that  flill  the  fame 

"  Does  all  our  minds  conrpofe  : 
V  But  fhap'din  twice  ten  thoufand  frames; 
"  Thence  diff' ring  fouls  of  differing  names, 
!    "  And  jarring  tempers  rofe. 

VI. 
|  The  mighty. pov/er  that  fcrm'd  the  mind 
E  One  mould  for  every  tvv-o  defign'd, 

"  And  blefs'd  the  new-born  pair; 

I  This  be  a  match  for  this:    (he  faid) 

I*  Then  down  he  fent  the  fouls  he  made, 

**  To  feek  them  bodies  here  ; 
VII. 
"  But  parting  from  their  warm  abode 
"  They  loft  their  fellows  on  the  road, 

*'  And  never  join'd  their  hands: 
"  Ah  cruel  chance,  and  croffing  fates! 
B  Our  eaftern  fouls  have  dropt  their  mates 

On  Europe's  barbarous  lands. 
VIII. 

II  Kappythe  youth  that  finds  the  bride 
K  Whofe  birth  is  to  his  own  ally'd, 

"  The  fweeteftjoyoflife: 
"  But  oh!  the  crowds  of  wretched  fouls 
«*  Fetter'd  to  minds  of  different  moulds, 

'*  And  chain'dth'  eternal  ftrife!" 
IX. 
Thus  fang  the  wond'rous  Indian  bardj 
My  foul  with  vaft  attention  heard, 


While 


204       LYRIC  POEMS,     Book  II.  1 

While  Ganges  ceas'd  to  flow  ; 
"  Sure  then  (I  cry'd)  might  I  but  fee 
"  That  gentle  nymph  that  twinn'd  with  mc, 

"  1  may  be  happy  too. 
X. 
"  Some  courteous  angel,  tell  me  where, 
"  What  diftant  lands  this  unknown  fair, 

11  Or  diftant  feas  detain  ? 
•»  Swift  as  the  wheel  of  nature  rolls 
"  I'd  fly,  to  meet  and  mingle  fouls, 

"  And  wear  the  joyful  chain. " 


The    Happy    Man. 


SERENE  as  light,  is  MYRON'sfoul, 
And  adive  as  the  fun,  yet  ftcady  as  the  pole 
In  manly  beauty  fhines  his  face  ; 
Every  mufe,  and  every  grace, 
"  Makes  his  heart  and  tongue  their  feat, 
His  heart  prof  ufely  good,  his  tongue  divinely  fweet. 
MYRON,  the  wonder  of  our  eyes, 
Behold  his  manhood  fcarce  begun 
Behold  his  race  of  virtue  run  \ 
Behold  the  gaol  of  glory  won  ! 
Nor  Fame  deniesthe  merit,  nor  with-holdsthe  prife. 
Her  filver  trumpets  his  renown  proclaim  : 
The  lands  where  learning  never  flew, 
Which  neither  Rome  nor  Athens  knew, 
Surly  Japan  and  rich  Peru, 
In  barbarous  fongs,  pronounce  the  Britifh   Hero's 
name. 
"  Airy  blifs  (the  hero  cry'd) 
"  May  fetd  the  tympany  of  pride  ; 

"But 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  Sec.  2crj 

fce  But  healthy  fouis  were  never  found 
"  To  live  on  emptinefs  and  found. 
II. 
"  Lo,  at  his  honorable  feet 
Fame's  bright  attendant,  Wealth,  appears; 
She  comes  to  pay  obedience  meet, 
Providing  joys  for  future  years  ; 
Blefiings  with  layifh  hand  fhe  pours 
Gather'd  from  the  Indian  coaft ; 
Not  Danae'slap  could  equal  treafures  boafr, 
When  Jove  came  down  in  golden  fhow'rs, 
He  look'd  and  turn'd  his  eyes  away, 
With  high  difdain  I  heard  him  fay, 
"  Blifs  is  not  made  of  glittering  day. 
III. 
Now  pomp  and  grandeur  court  his  head 
With,  fcutcheons,  arms,  and  enfigns  fpread  : 
Gay  magnificence  and  ftate, 
Guards,  and  chariots,  at  his  gate, 
And  flaves  in  endlefs  order  round  his  table  wait ; 
They  learn  the  dictates  of  his  eyes, 
And  now  they  fall,  and  now  they  rife, 
Watch  every  motion  of  their  Lord, 
Hang  on  his  lips  with  molt  impatient  zeal, 
With  fwift  ambition  feize  th'  unfinifn'd  word, 
And  the  command  fulfil. 
Tir'd  with  the  train  that  grandeur  brings, 
He  dropt  a  tear,  and  pity'd  kings ; 
Then  flying  from  the  noify  throng, 
Seeks  the  divcrfion  of  a  fong. 
IV. 
MusicK.  defcending  on  a  filent  cloud, 
p   Tun'd  all  her  firings  with  endlefs  art  j 

By  flow  degrees  from  foft  to  loud 
Changing  fhe  iofe;  the  harp  and  flute 

S  Harmonious 


-o6     LYRIC     POEMS,     Book  II, 

Harmonious  join,  the  hero  to  falute, 

And  make  a  captive  of  his  heart. 
Fruits,  and  rich  Wine,  and  fcenes  of  lawlefs  Lots 

Each  with  utmofb  iuxery  ftrove 
To  treat  their  favourite  heft; 

But  founding  firings,  and  fruits,  and  wine, 

And  lawlefs  love  in  vain  combine 
To  make  his  virtue  fieep,  or  lull  his  foul  to  reft. 

V. 
He  fuw  the  tedious  round,  and,  with  a  figh, 

Fronounc'd  the  world  but  vanity. 

"  In  crowds  of  pleafure  ftill  I  f.nd 

"  A  painful  folitude  of  mind. 
"  A  vacancy  within  which  fenfe  can  ne'er  fupply, 

"  Hence  and  be  gone,  ye  fktt'ring  fnares, 

*'  Ye  vulgar  charms  of  eyes  and  ears, 

c;  Ye  unperforming  promifers! 

"  Ee  all  my  bafer  pafiiferis  dead, 

"  And  bafe  defire?,  by  nature  made 
*'  For  animals  and  boys  ; 

«  Tvian  has  a  relifh  more  rc^n'd, 

«'  Souls  are  for  focial  blifs  defign'd, 
*<  Give  me  a  bfefEng  fit  to  match  my  mind. 
f!  A  kindred  foul  to  double  and  to  fhare  my  joys* 
VI. 

TvTYPTI  A  appear'd  :  ferene  her  foul 
Jind  a&iits  as  the  fun,ytt  Jicady  as  the  pole  ; 

Jr.  fofter  beauties  JbonebtT face  ; 

£very  mvfe  and  every  grace  , 
PAade  her  heart  andtundut  their  feat  t 
Her  heart  prcf-fjy  good,  Lcr  tongue  divinely fzveet ; 

TvIYRHA  the  wonder  of  bis  eyes; 

His  heart  recoifd  with  fweet  furprize, 
With  joys  unknown  before  : 

Hit 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c,  207 

His  foul  diffolv'din  pleafing  pain, 
Flow'd  to  his  eyes,  and  look'd  again, 

And  could  endure  no  more. 
**  Enough  !  (th'  impatient  hero  cries.) 

"  And  fei^'d  her  to  his  breaft, 
**  I  feek  no  more  belo~&  the  floes, 

**  I  give  ray  Haves  the  reft. 


To  DAVID    POLHILL,  Efijj 

An  Anfwer  to  an  infamous  Satyr,  called,  Advice  to  a 
Painter;  written  by  a  narnelefs  Author,  again  ft  King 
"William  III.  of  glorious  memory,  1698. 

S  I  R, 

IHfHP-  JV  you  put  this  fai^rlnio  my  handb  you  gave  vie, 
'  the  occafion  of  employing  my  pen  to  Unjkirerfa  defer- 
able a  •tvtitijnr\  'which  -might  be  done  much  mere  effcclual- 
ly  by  your  knoivn  zeal  for  the  inlerejl  of  bis  majefty,  your 
efiuhfeis  and  year  courage  employed  in  the  defence  of  your 
king  and  country.  Andfnce  yqii provoke  me  to  tvrlte,  you 
-will  accept  of '  tbefe  efforts  of  my  loyally  to  the  Left  of  'king.; . 
sddrejfed  to  cr.e  of  the  mof  -zealous  of  hlsfubjeZls,  by  Silt, 
your  moH  obedient  fervant,  I.   W", 

PART      I. 

AND  muCt  the  here,  that  redeemM  our  land, 
Here  in  the  front  of  vice  and "fcn.ndal  ftand  I 
The  man  of  wondrous  foul,  that  fcoru'd  his  eafe, 
Tempting  the  winter's  and  the  faith!  efs  leas, 
And  paid  an  annual  tribute  of  h-ia  life 
To  guard  his  England  from  the  Irifli  knife, 
And  crufh  the  French   dragoon  ?    muft   William's 

name, 
That  brighter  ftar  that  gilds  the  wings  of  fame, 

S  %  William 


I 


?o3     L  Y  R  I  C     P  0  E  M  S,     Book  II. 

William  the  brave,  the  plows,  and  the  juft 
Adorn  thefe  gloomy  fcenes  of  tyranny  and  luft  ? 

Polhill,  my  blood  boils  high,  myfpirits  flame;"} 
Can  your  zeal  fleep.'    Or  are  your  pafiionstame  ?  > 
Nor  call  revenge  and  darknefson  the  poet's  name?  * 
Why  fmoke  the  ikies  not?  Why  no  thunders  roll  ? 
Nor  kindling  lightnings  blaft  his  guilty  foul  ? 
Audacious  wretch  !  to  ftab  a  monarch's  fame, 
And  fire  his  fubjects  with  a  rebel-flame  ; 
To  call  the  painter  to  his  black  defigrjs, 
To  draw  our  guardian's  face  in  helliih  lines  : 
Painter,  beware!    the  monarch  can  be  Ibown 
Under  no  fhape  but  angels,  or  his  own, 
Gabriel,  or  William,  on  the  Britiih,  throne. 

O  !  could  my  thought  hut  grafp  the  vaft  defign, 

And  words  with  infinite  ideas  join, 
I'd  roufe  Apcllcs  from  his  iron  fiecp, 
And  bid  him  trace  the  warrior  o'er  the  deep  : 
Trace  him,  Apelles,   o'er  the  Belgian  plain,  "j 

Fierce,  how  he  climbs  the  mountains  of  the  flam,  £ 
Scattering  hid  vengeance  thro'  the  red  campaign. 
Then  dafh  the  canvas  with  a  flying  fboke, 
Till  it  be  loft  in  clouds  of  fire  and  fmoke, 
And  fay,  'Twas  thus  the  Conqueror  through  the 

fijuadrons  broke. 
Mark  him  again -emerging  from  the  cloud,  "1 

Par  from  his  troops  :  there  like  a  rock  he  flood.  > 
His  country's  finglc  barrier  in  a  fea  of  blood.  3 

Calmly  he  leaves  the  pleafiues  of  a  throne,  -j 

And  his  Maria  weeping  :  whilil  alone  ( 

He  wards  the  fate  of  nationsandprovokeshisdwn'j 
But  hcav'n  fecures  its  champion  ;  o'er  the  field  -\ 
Paint  hov'ring  angels  :  tho'  they. fly. conceal'd,  C 
Bach  interceptsa  death,  and  wears  it  on  his  ftrield.  J 

Now, 


Sacred  to VIr-tue   Mc,  269 

Now,    noble  pencil,  lead  him  to  our  Ifle. 
Mark  how  the  ikies  with  joyful  tuftre  fmile, 
Then  imitate  the  glory  on  the  Grand 
Spread  half  the  nation,  longing  till  he  land, 
Waih  off  the  blood,  and  fake  a  peaceful  teint.       "V 
All  red  the  warrior,  white  the  ruler  paint ;  > 

Abroad  a- aero,  and  at  home  a  faint.  J 

Throne  him  on  high  upon  a  mining  feat,  "j 

Luft  and  prophanenef=  dying  at  his  feet,  C 

Whiie  roundhis  headthe  iaureland  the  olive  meet,  j 
The  crowns  of  war  and  peace  ;   arc  may  they  blow 
With  fiow'ry  blefungs  ever  on  his  brow. 
At  his  right  hand  pile  up  the  EngliihJaws 
in  facred  volumes  ;   thence  the  monarch  draws 
His  wife  and  juft  commands— — — — ' 
Rife,  ye  old  fages  of  the  Britifh  ifle, 
On  the  fair  tablet  caft  a  reverend  friiile, 
And  blefs  the  piece  ;  thefe  fcatues  arc  your  own, 
That  fway  the  cottage,  and  direct  the  throne  ; 
People  and  prince  are  one  in  William's  name, 
Their  joys,  their  dangers,  and  their  laws  the  fame. 
Let  liberty,  and  right,  with  plumes  difplay'd,' 
Glap  their  glad  wingsaround  their  guardk 
Religion  o'er  the  reft  her  {tarry,  pinions 
Religion   guards  him  y  round  th'  Imperial  Queen 
Place  waiting  virtues,  each  of  heav'nly  mein  ; 
Learn  their  bright  air,  »nd  paint  it  from  his  eyes ; 
The  juft  the  bold,  the  temperate,  and  the  wife, 
Dwell  in  his  looks  :  majeftic,  but  ferene  ;  ^ 

Sweet  with  no  fondnefs ;  chearful,  but  not  vain :     L 
Bright,  without  terror,  great  without  difdain.      J 
His  foul  infpires  us  what  his  lips  command, 
And  fpreads  his  brave  example  thro'  the  land  ' 
Not  fo  the  former  reigns  ;■  ■ 
Bend  down  his  ear  to  each  afflicted  cry, 

S  3  Let 


'.3  cifplay'd,') 
dian'sliead,  > 
is  fpread.     -j 


silo       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II. 

Let  beams  of  grace  dart  gently  from  his  eye  ; 

But  the  bright  treufuresof  his  iacred  brcaft 

Are  too  divine,  too  vafl  to  be  expreff.  : 

Colours  rnuft  fail  where  words  and  number? faint, 

And  leave  the  herot's  heart  for  thought  alone  to  paint. 

PART      II. 

NOW,  in  life,  purfue  the  Satyrift  again, 
Wipe  off  the  blots  of  his  invenom'd  pen  ; 
Hark,  how  he  bids  the  fcrvile  painter  draw, 
In  m'onftrous,  fhapes,  the  patfonsbf  our  law  ; 
At  one  (light  dafli  he  cancels  every  name 
From  the  white  rolls  of  honcily  and  fame  : 
T hisfcribbling  wretch  marks  all  he  meets  for  knave, 
Shcctsfudden  bolts  promifcuous  at  the  bale  and  brave, 
And  with  unpardonable  malice  fheds 
Peifon  and  fpite  on  undiftinguiih'd  heads, 
painter,  forbear  ;    or  if  thy  bolder  hand 
Dares  to  attempt  the  villains  of  the  land, 
Draw  firft  this  poet,  like  fome  baleful  ftar, 
With  filer.t  influence  fhedding  civil  war  : 
Or  faclicus  trumpeter,  whofe  magic  found 
Calls  off  the  fubjedts  to  the  heftile  ground, 
And  fcatters  hellifh  feuds  the  nation  round. 
Thefe  are  the  imps  of  hell,  that  curfed  tribe 
That  firft  create  the  plague,  and  then  the  pain 
defcribe. 
Draw  next  above,  the  great  ones  of  our  idle, 
Still  from  the  good  diftinguifhing  the  vile  ; 
Seat  'em  in  pomp,  in  grandeur,  and  command, 
Peelin^the  iubjecls  with  a  greedy  hand  : 
1'aint  forth  the  knaves  that  have  the  nation  fold, 
And  tinge  their  greedy  looks  with  fordid  gold. 
Mark  what  a  felfilh  faction  undermines 

The 


Sacred  to  V i r-tue .   Sec.  * 

The  pious  monarch's  generous  defigns, 
Spoil  their  own  native  land  as  vipers  do, 
Vipers  that  tear  their  mother's  bowels  through. 
Let  great  Naffau,  beneath  a  careful  crown,  "V 
Mournful  in  majefty  look. gently  down,  > 

Mingling  fort  pity  with-an  awfuj  frown  :.       J- 
He  grieves  to  fee  how  long  in  vain  he  {trove. 
To  make  us  bleft,  how  vain  his  labours  prove 
To  fave  the  ftubborn  landhe.condefcends  to  love 


I 


To  the  Discontekted  and  Unquiet, 
Imitated  partly  from. Cafmaire,  B.4.  Od.  15. 

VARJ  A, .  there's  nothing  here  that's  free 
From  wearifome  anxiety  : 
And  the  whole  round  of  mortal  joys 
With  fhort  poffefnon  tires- and  cloys  :: 
Tis  a  dull  circle  that  we  tread, 
Juft  from  the  window  to  the  bed.: 
We  rife,  to  fee  and  to  .be  feen, 
Gaze  on  the  world  a-while  and  then 
We  yawn,  and  firetch  to  fleep  again. 
But  Fancy,  that  uneafy  gueft-,. 
Still  holds  a  lodging  in  our  bread  ;- 
She  finds  or  frames  vexations  ft  ill, 
Herfeif  the  greateft  plague  we  feel, 
We  take  Grange  pleajure  in  our  pain, 
And  make  a  mountain  of  a  grain, 
Affume  the  load*  and  pant  and  fweat 
Beneath  tn  imaginary  weight. 
With  our  dear  felves  we. live  at  ftrife, 
While  the  moft  conftant  fcenesof  li£s 
From  peevifh  humours  are. not  free,j 


Still 


212      LYRIC    POEMS.      Boofcli. 

Still  we  affect  variety  : 

Rather  than  pais  a»  eafy  day, 

We  fret  and  chide  the  hours  ^way, 

Grow  weary  of  this  circling  fun, 

And  vex  that  he  mould  ever  run 

The  fame  old  track  ;    and  frill,  and  fliil 

Rife  red  behind  yon  eaftern  hill, 

And  chide  the  moon  that  darts  her  light 

Thro'  the  fame  cafement  every  night. 

Wefhift  our  chambers,  and  our  homes, 
To  dwell  where  trouble  never  comes: 

Sylvia  has  left  the  city  crowd, 

Againilthe  court  exclaims  aloud, 

Flies  to  the  woods ;  a  hermit-faint ! 
She  loaths  her  patches,  pins,  and  paint, 
Dear  diamonds  from  her  neck  are  torn  :• 
But  Humour,  that  eternal  thorn, 
Sticks  in  her  heart  :   fhe's  hurry'd  frill, 
'Twixt  her  wild  paffions  and  her  will. 
Haunted  and  hagg'd  where-e'tr  fhe  roves,  -\ 
By  purling  fireams,  and  filent  groves,  C 

Gr  with  her  furies,  or  her  loves.  J 

Then  our  own  native  land  we  hate, 
Too  cool,  too  windy,  or  too  wet ; 
Change  the  thick  climate,  and  repair 
To  France  or  Italy  for  air  ; 
In  vain  we  change,  in  vain  we  fly; 
Go,  Sylvia,  mount  the  whirling  fky, 
Gr  ride  upon  the  feather'd  wind 
In  vain;  if  this  dii'eafed  mind 
Clings  faft,  and  flill  fits  clofe  behind. 
Faithful  difeafe,  that  never  fails 
Attendance  at  her  lady's  fide, 
Over  the  deftrt  or  the  tide, 
Gn  rolling  wheels,  or  flying  fails. 

Happy 


Saci-ed  to  Virtue,  &c,  21  g 


I 


To  fix  the  place  of  her  repofe,.. 
Ncedlefs  to  move;  for  fhe  can  dwell 
In  her  old  grandfire's  hall  as  well. 
Virtue  that  never  loves  to  roam, 

I  Bat  fweetly  hides  herfelf  at  home, 
And  eafy  on  a  native  throne 

.     Of  humble  turf  fits  gently  down. 

Yet  mould  tumultuous  fiorms  arifer. 
And  mingle  earth,  andfeas,  and  ikies, 
Should  the  waves  fvvell,  and  make  her  roll 

I    Acrofs  the  line,  or  near  the  pole, 
Still  file's  at  peace;  for  well  fhe  knows 
To  launch  the  flream  that  duty  fhows 
And  makes  her  home  where-e'er  fhe  goes. 

\    Bear  her,  ye  feas>  upon  your  bread, 

\    Or  waft  her,  winds,.  f«-©m  Eaft  to  Weft. 

On  the  foft  air;  fhe  cannot  find        "} 

A  couch  fo  eafy  as  her-mind,  £■ 

Nor  breathe  a  climate  half  fo  kind,    j 


To    JOHN    HARTOPP,    E[q, 

N-'.v  Sir  John  Hcrtopp,  Bart. 
Cafimire,  Book  I,  Ode  4.  imitated.. 

Vivjb  jucundg  mziuens  juventtc,    life. 

I.  July,  1700s. 

LI  V  E,  my  dear  HARTOPP,  live  to  day, 
Nor  let  the  fun  look  down  and  fly, 
''  Inglorious  here  he  lies, 
Shake  off  your  eafe,  and  fend  your  name 
To  immortality-and  fame, 
By  ev'ry  hour  that  iftes. 


2i4    LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  II, 

IT. 

Youth's  a  foft  fccne,  but  truft  her  not  r 
Her  air}'  minutes,  fwift  as  thought. 

Slide  of?  die  fiipp'ry  fphtre  ; 
Moons  with  their  months  make  hafty  rounds, 
The  fun  haspafl  his  vernal  bounds, 

And  v/hirls  about  the  year. 
III. 
Let  folly  drefs  in  green  and  red, 

And  gird  her  waftfi  with  flowing  gold  ; 
Knit  Mufning  rofjs  round  her  head, 
Alas  !  the  gaudy  colours  fade, 

The  garment  waxes  old. 
HARTOPP,  mark  the  withering  rofe, 
And  the  pale  gold  how  dim  it  dhows  ?. 

IV. 
Bright  and  lafting  blifs  below 

Is  all  romance  and  dream  ; 
On'y  the  joys  celeftial  flow 

In  an  eternal  ftream. 
The  pleasures  that  the  failing  day 

With  large  right  hand  bellows, 
Falfely  her  left  conveys  away, 

And  ihuffles  in  our  woe?. 
So  have  I  feen  a  mother  play, 

And  cheat  her  filly  child. 
She  gave  and  took  a  toy  away, 

The  infant  cry'd  and  frnil\l. 
V. 
Airy  chance,  and  iron  fate 
Hurry  and  vex  our  mortal  ftate, 
And  all  the  race  of  ills  create  ; 
Now  fiery  joy,  now  fallen  grief, 
Commands  therein^  of  human  life, 

The  wheels  impetuous  roll ; 


The 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c.  2.1  g 

'The  harncft  hours  and  minutes  ftrive, 
And  days  with  ftretching  pinions  drive— 

—down  fiercely  on  the  goal. 
VI. 
Not  half  fo  faft  the  galley  files 

O'er  the  Venetian  fea, 
"When  fails,  and  oars,  and  lab'ring  fkie3 

Contend  to  make  her  way. 
Swift  wings  for  all  the  flying  hours 

The  God  of  time  prepares, 
The  reft  lie  ftill  yet  in  their  r;cft 

And  grow  for  future  years. 


To    THO  M  AS     GUNS  T  O  N,    Efq-. 

1  yGO. 

Happy     Solitude. 

<Z?firJre,  Book  4.     Ode  is.  Imitated, 
Quid-ine  latent  em  i    &C 

I. 

TH  E  ncify  world  complains  of  me 
That  I  ihould  fiiun  their  fight  2nd  flee 
Vifits,  and  crowds,  and  company. 
GUNSTON,  the  lark  dwells  in  her  lieft 

Tillfhe  afcend  the  ikies  ; 
And  in  my  ciofe't  I  could  reft 
Till  to  the  heavens  I  rife. 
IT. 
Yet  they  will  urge,  "  this  private  life 
"*"'  Can  never  make  you  blefi, 
*'  And  twenty  doors  are  ftill  at  ftrife 
«  T5  engage  you  for  a  gueft. 

-Friend* 


*i6     LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 

Friend,  mould  the  towers  of   Windfcr  or  Whi 
hall, 
Spread  open  their  inviting  gates 
To  make  my  entertainment  gay , 
I  would  obey  the  royal  calls 

But  fhort  (hould  be  my  flay, 
Since  a  diviner  fervice  waits 
T'  -employ  my  hours  at  home,  and  better  fill 
-the  day. 

iii. 

When  I  within  myfelf  retreat, 
1  (hut  my  doorsagainft  the  great  ; 
My  bufy  eye  balls  inward  roll, 
Arid  there  with  large  fur'vey  I  'fee 
All  the  wide  theatre  of  me, 
And  view  the  various  fcenes  of  my  retiring  fcul; 
There  I  walk  o'er  the  mazes  1  have  trod, 
While  hope  and  fear  are  in  a  doubtful  ftrife, 

Whether  this  opera  cf  life 
Be  acted  well  to  gain  the  plaudit  of  my  G-ov. 

IV. 
There's  a  day  haftning,   ('tis  an  awful  day  !) 
When  the  great  fovereign  fhall  at  large  review 

All  that  we  fptak,  and  all  we  do, 
The  feveral  parts  we  act  en  this  wide  ftsge  cf  clay  : 

Thefe  he  approves,  and  thofe  he  blames, 
And  crowns  perhaps  a  porter,  and  a  prince  he  damns, 
O!   if  the  judge  from  his  tremendous  feat 
Shall  not  condemn  what  I  have  done, 
1  fhall  be  happy,  rho'  unknown, 
Nor  need  the  gazing  rabble,  nor  the  ihouting  flreet. 
V. 
1  hate  the  glory,  friend,  that  lprings 
From  vulgar  breath,  and  empty  found; 
F-ame  mounts  her  upward  with  a  flatt'ring  gale 

iTpoft 


Stored  fo  Virtue,  &c»  "'217 

Upon  her  airy  wings, 
'Till  envy  fhoots,  and.  fame  receives  the  wound  $ 
Then  her  flagging  pinions  fail, 
Down  glory  falls  and  ftrikes  the  ground, 
And breaksher  batter'd  limbs. 
•Rather  let  me  be  quite  conceal' d  Ivcmfame; 
How  happy  I  mould  lie 
In  fweet  obfcurity, 
Nor  the  loud  world  pronounce  my  little  name! 
Here  I  could  live  and  die  alone  ; 
Or  if  fociety  be  due 
To  keep  our  tafte  of  pleafure  new. 

GUNSTON,  I'd  live  and  die  with  you, 
For  both  our  fouls  are  one. 
VI. 
Here  we  could  fit  and  pafs  the  hour 
And  pity  kingdoms,  and  their  kings, 
And  fmile  at  all  their  fhining  things, 
Their  toys  of  ftate,  and  images  of  power; 
Virtue  fiiould  dwell  within  our  feat, 
Virtue  alone  could  make  it  fw«et, 
Nor  is  herfelf  fecure,  but  in  a  clofe  retreat. 
While  (he  withdraws  from  public  piaife 
Envy  perhaps  would  ceafe  to  rail, 
Envy  itfelf  may  innocently  gaze 
At  bea  uty  in  a  vail : 
But  if  fhe  ence  advance  to  light, 
Her  charms  are  loft  in  envy's  fight, 
And  virtue  {lands  the  mark  of  univtrfal  fpignf. 


Ci7      LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  II. 

To    10  HN    HARTO  PP.    Efq. 

Now  Sir  John  Hartopp,  Bart. 

The    Disdain. 


HAPvTOPP,  I  love  the  foul  that  dares 
Tread  the  temptations  of  his  years 

Beneath  his  youthful  feet  : 
FLEETWOOD,  and  all  thy  heavenly  line, 
Look  thro'  the  ftars,  and  fmile  divine 

Upon  an  heir  fo  great. 
Young  HARTOPP  knows  this  noble  theme, 
That  the  wild  fcenes  of  bufy  life, 
The  noife  th'  amufements,  and  the  flrife, 
Are  but  the  vifions  of  the  night, 
Gay  phantoms  of  delufive  light, 

Or  a  vexatious  dream . 
II. 
Flefh  is  the  vileft,  and  the  lead 

Ingredient  of  our  frame  : 
We're  born  to  live  above  the  beafl, 

Or  quit  the  manly  name. 
Pleafures  of  ftnfe  we  leave  for  boys; 
Be  fhining  dull  the  mifer'  s  food  ; 
Let  fancy  feed  on  fame  and  noife, 
Souls  mufl.  purfuc  diviner  joys, 

And  feize  th*  immortal  good. 


To  MIT  10,  my  FRIEND. 

An    EPISTLE. 
'OZGIFE  me,   M  I  T  I  O,  that  there  Jkeuld  be  tiny 
Mortifying  lines  in  the  following  poems   infribed  tt  pm 


Sacred  to  Virtue   &c.  219 

fofoon  afler  your  entrance  into  that  fate  ivhich  ivas  defgnd 
for  the  completed  happinefs  en  earth:  but  y  an  ivill  quickly 
difcover,  that  the  mufe  in  thejlrji  poem  only  reprefents  the 
foadts  and  dark  colours  that  melancholy  throws  upon  love, 
and  the  facial  life.  In  thefecond,  perhaps  fhe  indulges  her 
vivn  bright  ideas  a  little.  Yet  if  the  accounts  are  but  ivell 
balanced  at  la/l,  and  things  fet  in  a  due  light,  I  hope  there  is 
no  ground  for  cenfure.  Here  you  ivill  find  an  attempt  mad: 
to  talk  of  one  of  the  mof  important  concerns  of  human  nature 
in  verfe,  and  that  ivith  a  jotemnity  becoming  the  argument* 
1 'have  banijhed  grimace  and  ridicule  that  p  erf ons  of  the  mafi 
ferious  character  may  read  ivithout  offence.  What  ivas  ivrit- 
t  en  fever  al  years  ago  to  yourfelf  is  noiv  permitted  to  entertain 
the  ivorld  ;  but  you  may  affume  it  to  yourfelf  as  a  pi  ivate  en- 
tertainment fill,  ivhile  you.  lie  concealed  behind  a  feigned 
name. 


The  Mourning  Piece. 

LI  F  E's  a  long  tragedy  :  this  globe  the  ftage, 
Well  fis'd  and  well  adorn'd  with  ftrong  machines 
Gay  fields,  and  Ikies,  and  feas  :  the  a&crs  many  •: 
The  Plot  immenfe  :    a  flight  of  Demons  fit 
On  every  failing  cloud  with  fatal  purpofe  ; 
And  fhoot  acrols  the  fcenesten  thoufand  arrow* 
Perpetual  and  unfeen,  headed  with  pain, 
With  forrow,  infamy,  difeafe  and  death 
The  pointed  plagues  fly  filent  thro'  the  air, 
Nor  twangs  the  bow,  yet  fure  and  deep  the  wound, 

Dian  fhe  acls  her  little  part  alor.e, 
Nor  wifhes  an  affociate.     JLo  fhe  glides 
Single  thro'  all  the  ftorm,  and  more  fecure  ; 
Lefs  are  her  dangers,  and  her  bread  receives 
The  feweft  darts.    "  But,  O  my  lov'd  Marilla, 
"  My  fifter,  once  my  friend,  (Dian  fhe  cries) 
■ '  How  much  art  thou  expos' d !  thy  growing  foul 
T  3  "  Doubled 


22o       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II 

"  Doubled  in  wedlock,  mukiply'd  in  children, 
te  Stands  but  the  broader  mark  for  all  the  mifchiefs 
11  That  rove  promifcuous  o'er  the  mortal  ftage  : 
"  Children  thofe  dear  young  limbs,  thofe  tendered 

pieces 
"  Of  your  own  flefh,  thofe  little  other  felves, 
"  How  they  dilate  the  heart  to  wide  dimenfions, 
"  And  foften  every  fibre  to  improve 
"  The  mother's  fad  capacity  of  pain ! 
"   I  mourn  Fidelia  too;  tho' heaven  has  chofe 
"  A  favourite  mate  for  him,  of  all  her  fex 
**  The  pride  and  flower  :  how  bleft  the  lovely  pah 
M  Leyond  expreffion,  if  well  mingled  loves 
"  And  woes  well  mingled  could  improve  our  blii 
"  Amidft  the  rugged  cares  of  life  behold 
"  The  father  and  the  hufband;  flattering  names, 
'?  That  fpread  his  title,  and  enlarge  his  fhare, 
•"  Of  common  wretcheclnefs.     He  fondly  hopes 
•'  To  multiply  his  joys,  but  every  hour 
"  Renews  the  difappointment  and  the  fmart. 
•*  There's  not  a  wound  afflicts  the  meanefi  joint 
"  Of  his  fair  partner,  or  her  infant  train, 
"  (Sweet  babes! )  but  pierces  to  hisinmoft  foul. 
"  Strange  is  thy  power,  O  love !  what  numereus  vein?, 
«'  And  arteries,  and  arms,  and  hands,  and  eyes, 
*c  Are  link'd  ond  faftcn'd  to  a  lover's  heart, 
"  By  ilrong  isut  fecret  firings!  with  vain  attempt 
"  We  put  the  Stoic  on,  in  vain  we  try 
"  To  break  the  ties  of  nature  and  of  blood  ; 
"  Thofe  hidden  threads  maintain  the  dear  commu* 

nion 
"  Inviolably  firm  their  thrilling  motions 
"  Reciprocal  give  endlefs  fimpathy 
"  In  all  the  bitters  and  the  l'weets  of  life. 
V  1  hritc  happy  man,  if  pleafure  only  knew 

kU  ■  »  Thefe 


Sacred  ^Virtue,   &&  %  2  i 

"  Thefe  avenues  of  love  to  reach  our  fouls,  ~ 
**■  Asd  pain  had  never  found  'em. 

Thus  fang  the  tuneful  maid,  fearful  to  try 
The  hold  experiment.     Of  Daphnis  came, 
And  oft  Narciffus,  rivals  of  her  heart, 
Luring  her  eyes  with  trifles  dipt  in  gold, 
And  the  gay  iilkenhandage.      Firm,  ihe  ftcod, 
And  hold  repuls'd  the  bright  temptation  Sill, 
Nor  put  the  chains  on  dangerous  to  try, 
And  hard  to  he  diffolv'd.     Yet  riling  tears 
Sate  on  her  eye-lids  while  her  numlersfiow'd 
Harmonious  forrow;  and  the  pitying  drops 
Stele  down  her  cheeks,  to  mourn  the  haplefs  ftate 
Of  mortal  love.     Love  thou  beft  bleffing  fent 
To  foften  life,  and  make  our  iron  cares 
Eafy  :  but  thy  own  cares  of  fofter  kind 
Give  fharper  wounds :  they  lodge  too  near  the  heart. 
Beat  like  the  pulfe,  perpetual,  and  create 
A  ftrange  uneafy  fenfe,  a  tempting  pain. 

Say  my  companion  MiTIO,  fpeak  Siicere, 
(For  thou  art  learned  now)awhat  anxious  thoughts, 
What  kind  perplexities  tumultuous  rife, 
If  but  theabfence  of  a  day  divide 
Thee  from  thy  fair  beloved  !  vainly  fmiles 
The   chearful  fun,  and  night  with  radiant  eyes 
Twinkles  in  vain  :  the  region  of  thy  foul 
Is  darknefs,  till  thy  better  ftar  appear. 
Tell  me,  what  toil,  what  torment  to  fuflain 
The  rolling  burden  of  the  tedious  hours? 
The  tedious  hours  are  ages.     Fancy  roves 
Reftlefs  in  fond  enquiry,  nor  believes 
Chariffa  fafe  :   Chariffa,  in  whofe  life 
Thy  life  conhfrs,  and  in  her  comfort  thine. 
Fear  and  furmife  put  on  a  thoufand  forms 
Of  dear  diiquictude,  and  round  thine  ears 

T  3  .Till 


222     LYRIC   POEMS,      Book  I!'. 

Whifper  ten  thoufan.d  dangers,  endlefs  woes, 

Till  thy  frame  ihudders  at  her  fancy'd  death; 

'J  hen  dies  ray  MITIO,  and  his  blood  creeps  cold 

1  hro'  every  vein.     Speak,  does  the  ftranger  mufe 

Call  happy  gueffes  at  the  unknown  pafiion, 

Or  has  fhe  fabled  all  ?  inform  me,  friend, 

.Are  half  thy  joys  fincere?  thy  hopes  fulfill'd. 

Or  fruflrate  ?  here  commit  thy  fecret  griefs 

To  faithful  ears,  and  be  they  bury 'd  here 

In  friendfhip  and  oblivion;   left  they  fp oil 

Thy  new-born  pleafures  with  diftafteful  gall. 

Nor  let  thine  eye  too  greedily  drink  in 

The  frightful  proipecr  when  untimely  death 

Shall  make  wild  inroads  on  the  parent's  heart. 

And  his  dear  offspring  to  the  cruel  grave 

Are  dragg'd  in  fadfucceffion,  while  his  foul 

Is  torn  away  peace-meal :  thus  dies  the  wretch 

A  various  death  and  frequent  e"er  he  quit 

The  theatre,  and  make  his  exit  final. 

But  if  his  deareft  half  his,  faithful  mate 
Survive,  and  in  the  fwecteft  faddeft  airs 
Of  Jove  and  grief,  approach  with  trembling  hand 
To  clofe  his  fwimming  eyes,  what  double  pangs 
What  racks,  what  twinges  rend  his  heart  firings  off 
From  the  fair  bofom  of  that  fellow-dove 
He  leaves  behind  to  mourn  ?  what  jealous  care-6 
Hang  on  his  parting  foul,  to  think  his  love 
Expos'd  to  wild  oppreffion,  and  the  herd 
Of  favage  men  ?  fo  parts  the  dying  turtle 
With  fobbing  accents,  with  fuch  fad  regret 
Leaves  his  kind  feather'd  mate  :  the  widow-bird 
Wanders  in  lonefome  fhades,  forgets  her  food, 
Forgets  her  life;  or  falls  a  fpeedier  prey 
To  talon'd  falcons,  and  the  crooked  beak 
Of  hawks  athirii  for  blood    _     ■ 

The 


V 


Sacred  to  V  i  r  t  u  e  ,  &c .  2  £3 

The   Second   PART:    Or, 
The    bright   Vision. 

T-1  H  US  far  the  mufe  in  unaccufttom'd  mood, 
X     And  {trains  unpleafing  to  a  lover's  ear, 
Indulg'da  gloom  of  thought;  and  thus  fhe  fang; 
Partial*  for  melancholly  's  hateful  form 
Stood  by  his  fable  robe  :  the  penfive  mufe 
Survey'dthe  darkfomefcenes  of  Life,  and  fought 
Some  bright  relieving  glimpfe,  fom'e  cordial  ray 
In  the  fair  world  of  love  :   but  while  fhe  gazvd 
Delightful  on  the  ftate  of  twin  born  fouls 
United,  blefs'd  the  cruel  fhade  apply' d 
A  dark  long  tube,  and  a  falfe  tinctur'd  glafs 
Deceitful ;   blending  love  and  life  at  once 
Ifl  darknefs,  and  Chaos,  and  the  common  mafs 
Of  mifery  :  now  Urania  feels  the  cheat, 
And  breaks  the  hated  optic  in  difdain. 
Swift  vanifhes  the  fudden  form,  and  lo 
The  fcene  fhines  bright  with  blifs  :  behold  the  placS 
Where  mifchiefs  never  fly,  cares  never  come 
With  wrinkled  brow,  nor  anguifh,  nor  difeafe, 
Nor  malice  forky  tongu Jd .     On  this  dear  fpot. 
MITIO  my  lotfe  would  fix  and  plant  thy  ftttion 
To  act  thy  part  of  life,  ferene  andbleft. 
With  the  fair  confort  fitted  to  thy  heart. 
Sure  'tis  a  vifion  of  that  happy  grove 
Where  the  firft  authors  of  our  mournful  race 
Liv'd  in  fweet  partnerfhip  !  one  hour  they  liv'd3 
But  chang'd  the  tailed  blifs  (imprudent  pair!) 
For  fin,  and  fhame,  and  this  wafte  wilqernefs 
Of  briars,  and  nine  hundred  years  of  pain. 
The  wifhing  mufe  new  dreffes  the  fair  garden 
Amid  this  defert  world,  with  buddiug  blifs, 
And  ever-greens,  and  balms,  and  fiow'ry  beaifties 
Without  one  dangerous  tree  :  there  heavenly  dews 

Nightly  j 


224     LYRIC     POEMS,    Book  II. 

Nightly  defcending  fhall  impcarl  the  graft 

And  verdant  herbage;   drops  of  fragrancy 

Sit  trembling  on  fcliefpires  :  the  fpicy  vapours 

Rife  With  tlie  dawn,  and  thro'  th'  air  dina/d 

Salute  you  r  waking  fenfes  with  perfume  : 

While  vital  fruits  with  their  ambrofial  juice 

Renew  life's  purple  flood  and  fountain,  pure 

From  vacious  taint  ;   and  with  your  innocence 

Immortalize  the  firucSure  of  your  clay. 

On  this  new  puradife  the  clouulefs  ikies 

Shall  fraile  perpetual,  while  the  lamp  of  day, 

With  flames  unfully'd,   (as  the  fabled  torch 

Of  Hymen)  meafures  out  your  golden  hours 

Along  his  Azure  road-     The  nuptial  mcon 

In  milder  rays  ferene,  fhould  nightly  rife 

Full-orb'd  (if  heaven  and  nature  will  indulge 

So  fair  an  emblem)  big  with  filver  joys, 

And  ftill  forget  her  wane.     The  fcather'd  choir 

Warbling  their  maker's  praife  on  eaidy  wing, 

Or  perch'd  on  evening  bough,  {hall  join  your  worfhip, 

Join  your  fweet  vefpers,  and  the  morning  fong, 

O  i'acred  fymphony  !   Hark,  thro'  the  grove 
I  hear  the  found  divine  !  I'm  alt  attention, 
All  ear,  all  extafy  ;   unknown  delight ! 
And  the  fair  mufe  proclaims  the-  heav'a  below. 

Not  the  fcraphic  minds  of  high  degree 
DUdain  converfe  with  men  :  again  returning 
I  fee  th'  ethereal  hofc  on  downward  wing. 
Lo,  at  the  eaftern  gate  young  cherubs  ftand 
Guardians,  commiihon'd  to  convey  their  joys 
To  earthly  lovers.     Go,  ye  happy  pair, 
Go  tafte  their  banquet,  learn  their  nobler  pleafures 
Supernal,  and  from  brutal  dregs  refir.Yl. 
Raphael  fhall  teach  thee,  friend,  exalted  thoughts 
And  intellectual,  blifs.     'Tvvas  Raphael  taught 

The 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c,  225 

The  patriarch  of  our  progeny  th*  affairs  ■ 

Of  heaven  :   (fo  Milton  fmgs,  enlightned  bard  ! 

Nor  mif ' d  his  eyes,  when  in  fablimeft  ftrain 

The  angel's  gr&at  narration  he  repeats 

To  Albion's  fons  high  favour'd)  thou  fhalt  leans 

Celeftial  leffons  from  his  awful  tongue  ; 

And  with  foft  grace  and  interwoven  loves 

(Grateful  digreffion)  air  his  words  rehearfe 

To  thy  Chariffa's  ear,  and  charm  her  foul. 

Thus  with  divine  difcourfe,  in  fhady  bowers. 

Of  Eden,  our  firft  father  entertained 

Eve  his  fole  auditrefs  ;  and  deep  difpute 

With  conjugal  careffes  on  her  lip 

Sclv'd  eafy,  and  abftrufeft  thoughts  reveal'd. 

Now  the  day  wears  apace,  now  MITIO  comet 
From  his  bright  tutor,  and  finds  out  his  mate. 
Behold  the  dear  afiociates  feated  low 
On  humble  turf,  with  rofe  and  myrtle  ftrow'd  j 
But  high  their  conference  !  how  fslf-fuffic'd 
Lives  their  eternal  maker,  girt  around 
With  glories  ;   arm'd  with  thunders;  and  his  thro*& 
Mortal  accefs  forbids,  projecting  far 
Splendors  uniufferable  and  radiant  death. 
With  reverence  and  abafement  deep  they  fall 
Before  hisfovereign  majeity,  to  pay 
Due  werfhip  :  then  his  mercy  on  their  fouls 
Smiles  with  a  gentler  ray,  but  fovereign  ftill ; 
And  leads  their  meditation  and  difcourfe 
Long  ages  backward,  and  acrofs  the  feas 
To  Bethlehem  of  Judah ;  there  the  Ion, 
The  filial  Godhead,  character  exprefs 
Of  brightnefs  inexprefiible,   laid  by 
His  beamy  robes,,  and  made  defcenl  to  earth 
Sprung  from  the  fons  of  Adam,  he  became 
A  fecond  father,  ftucious  to  regain 

Loft 


I 


226     LYRIC  POEMS,     Book  II, 

Loft  paradife  for  men,  andpurchafe  heav'n. 

The  lovers  with  indearment  mutual  thus 
Promifcucus  talk'd,  and  queftions  intricate 
His  manly  judgment  lull  refolv'd,  and  ft  ill 
Held  her  attention  fiat'd  :  &e  mufing  fat 
On  the  fweet  mention  of  incarnate  love, 
Till  rapture  wak'd  her  voice  to  fofteft  ftrains. 
*«  She  fang  the  infant  God  ;   (myfterious  theme  !) 
"  How  vile  his  birth-place,  and  his  cradle  vile  1 
"  The  ox  and  afs  his  mean  companions;    there 
*'  In  habit  vile  the  fhepherds  flock  around, 
V  Saluting  the  great  mother,  and  adore 
*'  lfraei's  anointed  king,  the  appointed  heir 
*'  Of  the  creation.     How  debas'dhe  lies 
"  Beneath  his  regal  ftate  ;  for  thee,  my  MITIO, 
•'  Bebas'd  in  fervile  form  ;  but  angels  flood 
.'•  Miniftring  round  their  charge  with  folded  wings 
"  Cbfequiousj  tho'  unfeen  ;   while  lightfome  hours 
"  Fulfxll'd  the  day,  and  the  grey  evening  rofe. 
'"*  Then  ihi  fair  guardians  hov'ring  o'er  his  head 
"  Wakeful  all  night,  drive  the  foul  ipirits  far, 
"  And  with  their  fanning  pinions  purge  the  air 
"  From  bufy  phantoms,  from  infectious  damps, 
"  And  impure  taint ;  while  their  ambrofial  plumes 
"  A  dewy  fiumber  on  hisienfes  fhed. 
"  Alternate  hymns  the  heav'nly  watchers  fung 
"  Melodious,  foothing  the  furrounding  fhades, 
"  And  kept  the  darknefs  chafte  and  holy.     Then 
««  Midnight  was  charm'd,  and  all  her  gazing  eyes. 
"  Wonder'd  to  fee  their  mighty  maker  fieep. 
"  Behold  the  glooms  difperfe,  the  rofy  morn 
"  bniiies  in  the  call  with  eye-lids  opening  fair, 
"  But  not  fo  fair  as  thine  ;   O  1  could  fold  thee, 
"  My  young  almighty,  my  creator-babe, 
"  Tor  in  thefe  arm? !  for  ever  dwell 

**  Upon 


•    Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c,  227 

f*  Upon  thy  lovely  form  with  gazing  joys, 
"  And  every  pulfe  Ihould  beat  feraphic  love  ! 
"  Around  my  feat  fhould  crouding  cherubs  come 
*'  With  fvvift  ambition,  zealous  to  attend 
e '  Their  prince,  and  form  a  heav'n  below  the  fky, 
"  Forbear,  Chariffa,  O  forbear  the  thought 
"  Of  female  fondnefs,  and  forgive  the  man 
*'  That  interrupts  fuch  melting  harmony  !*.' 
Thus  MITIO ;   and  awakes  her  nobler  powers 
To  pay  juft:  worfhip  to  the  facred  king, 
Jefus,  the  God  ;  nor  with  devotion  pure 
Mix  the  careffes  of  her  fofter  fex  ; 
(Vain  blandifnment  ■ )  "  Come,  turn  thine  eyes  afide 
'«  From  Bethle'em,  ana  climb  up  the  doleful  ileep 
"  Of  bloody  Calvary,  where  naked  fculls 
"  Pave  the  fad  road,  and  fright  the  traveller. 
<c  Can  my  beloved  bear  to  trace  the  feet 
"  Of  her  Redeemer  panting  up  the  hill 
xc  Hard-burden'd  ?  Can  thy  heart  attend  his  crofs  ? 
*'  Nail'd  to  the  cruel  wood  he  groans,  he  dies, 
*'  For  thee  he  dies.     Beneath  thy  fins  and  mine 
*'  (Horrible  load)  the  finlefs  Saviour  groans, 
*'  And  in  fierce  anguifh  of  his  foul  expires, 
"  Adoring  angels  pry  with  bending  head 
*'  Searching  the  deep  contrivance,  and  admire 
.  *'  This  infinite  defign.     Here  peace  is  made 
lt  'Twixt  God  the  fovereign,  and  the  rebel  man  ; 
*'  Here  Satan  overthrown  with  all  hishofts 
"  In  fecond  ruin  rages  and  defpairs  ; 
"  Malice  itfelf  defpairs.     The  captive  prey 
«'  Long  held  in  flavery  hopes  a  fweet  releafe, 
"  And  Adam's  ruin'd  offspring  fhail  revive 
"  Thus  ranfom'd  from  the  greedy  jaws  of  death." 

The  fair  difciple  heard  ;  her  pafiions  move 
Harmonious  to  the  great  difcourfe,  and  breathe 
Refin'd  devotion  ;  while  new  fmiles  of  love     Repay 


228     LYRIC     POEMS,     Book  II. 

Repay  her  teacher.     Both  with  bended  knees 

Read  o'er  the  covenant  of  eternal  life 

Brought  down  to  men  ;   feal'd  by  the  facred  three 

In  heav'n'and  feal'd  on  earth  with  God's  own  blood. 

Here  they  unite  their  names  again,  andfign 

Thofe  peaceful  articles.     (Hail  bleft  co-heirs 

Cceleftial !  Ye  fhall  grow  to  manly  age. 

And  fpite  of  earth  and  hell  in  feafon  due 

Poffefs  the  fair  inheritance  above.) 

With  joyous  admiration  they  furvey 

The  gofpel  treafures  infinite,  unfeen 

By  mortal  eye,  by  mortal  ear  unheard, 

And  nnconceiv'd  by  thought  :  riches  divine, 

And  honours  which  th'  almighty  Father-God 

Pour'd  with  immenfe  profufionon  his  fon, 

High-treafurer  of  heaven.     The  fon  beftows 

The  life,  the  love,  the  bleffmg,  and  the  joy, 

On  bankrupt  mortals  who  believe  and  love 

His  name.     "  Then,  my  Chariffa,  all  is  thine. 

*«  And  thine,  my  MITIO,  the  fair  faint  replies. 

'*'  Life,  death,  the  world  below,  and  worlds  on  high 

"  And  place,  and  time,  are  ours;  and  things  to  come, 

**  And  paft,  and  prefent,  for  our  intereit  frauds 

"  Firm  in  our  myftic  head,  the  title  fare. 

"  'Tis  for  our  health  and  fweet  refrefhment  (while 

"  We  fojourn  ftrangershere)  the  fruitful  earth 

"  Bears  plenteous;  and  revolving  ieafons  full 

*'  Drefs  her  vaft  globe  in  various  ornament. 

"  For  us  this  chearful  fun  and  chearful  light 

"  Diurnal  fhine.     This  blue  expanfe  of  fky 

«*  Hangs,  a  rich  canopy  above  our  heads 

"  Covering  our  (lumbers,  all  with  fcarrygold 

"  Inwrought,  when  night  alternates  her  return. 

"  For  us  time  wears  his  wings  out.     Nature  keeps 

*'  Her  wheels  in  motion  :  and  her  fabrick  ftanefc. 

11  Glories 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c#  229 

*f  Glories  beyond  our  ken  of  mortal  fight 
*«  Are  now  preparing,  and  a  manfion  fair 
*'  Awaits  us,  where  the  faints  unbody'd  live. 
"  Spirits  releas'd  from  clay,  and  purg'd  from  fin  -: 
lt  Thither  our  hearts  with  moft  inceffant  wifb, 
"  Panting  afpire  ;  when  fhali  that  deareft  hour 
*j  Shine  and  releafe  us  hence,  and  bear  us  high, 
"  Bear  us  at  once  unfever'd  to  our  better  home  ? 

O  bleffc  connubial  ftate  !  O  happy  pair 
Envy'd  by  yet  unfociated  fouls 
Who  feek  their  faithful  twins !  Your  pleafures  rift 
Sweet  as  the  morn,  advancing  as  the  day, 
Fervent  as  glorious  noon,i  ferenely  calm 
As  fummer  evenings.     The  vile  fons  of  earth 
Groveling  in  duft  with  all  their  noifyjars 
Reftlefs,  fiiall  interrupt  your  joys  no  more 
Than  barking  animals  affright  the  moon 
Sublime,  and  riding  in  her  midnight  way, 
Friendfhip  and  love  (hall  undiftinguifh'd  reign 
O'er  all  your  paffions  with  unrival'd  fway 
Mutual  and  everlafting  :  friendfhip  knows 
No  property  in  good>  but  all  things  common 
That  each  poffeffes,  as  the  light  or  air 
In  which  we  breathe  and  live  :  there's  not  one  tho't 
Can  lurk  in  clofe  referve,  no  barriers  fix'd, 
But  every  paffage  open  as  the  day 
To  one  another's  breaft,  and  inmofl  mind,' 
Thus  by  communion  your  delight  fhall  grow 
Thus  ftreams  of  mingled  blefs  fwell  higher  as 

they  flow, 
Thus  angels  mix  their  flames,  and  more  divinely 

glow. 


! 


The 


230     LYRIC     POEMS,    Book  11 

The  Third  PART  :    Or, 

The  Account  balanced. 

I. 

SHOULD  fovereign  love  before  me  ftand, 
With  all  his  train  of  pomp  and  itate, 
And  bid  the  daring.mufe  relate 

His  comforts  and  his  cares  ; 
MI' HO,  I  would  not  afk  the  fand 
For  metaphors  t'  exprefs  their  weight, 
Nor  borrow  numbers  from  the  itars. 
Thy  cares  and  comforts,  fovereign  love, 
Vaftly  out-weigh  the  fands  below, 
And  to  a  larger  audit  grow 
Than  all  the  flars  above. 
Thy  mighty  loffes  and  thy  gains 
Are  their  own  mutual  meafures ; 
Only  the  man  that  knows  thy  pains 
Can  reckon  up  thy  pleafures. 
H. 
Say,  Damon,  fay,  how  bright  the  fcene, 
.  Damon  is  half  divinely  bleft, 
Leaning  his  head  on  his  Florella's  breaft 
Without  a  jealous  thought,  or  bufy  care  between  : 
Then  the  fvveet  paffions  mix  and  fhare  ; 
Florella  tells  thee  all  her  heart, 
Nor  can  thy  foul's  remoteft  part 
Conceal  a  thought  or  wifh  from  the  beloved  fair. 

Say,  what  a  pitch  thy  pleafures  fly 
When  frieftdfhip  all  fincere  grows  up  to  cxtafy, 
Nor  felf  contracts  the  blifs,  nor  vice  pollutes  the  joy. 

While  thy  dear  offspring  round  thee  fit, 
Or  fporting  innocently  at  thy  feet 
Thy  kindeft  thoughts  engage  : 
Thofe  little  images  of  thee.  What 


Sacred  *o  Virtue,  <£c,  2gt 

What  pretty  toys  of  youth  they  be 
And  growing  props  of  age ! 
III. 
But  fhort  is  earthly  biifs  !  the  changing  wind 

Blows  from  the  fickly  fouth,  and  brings 
Malignant  fevers  on  itsfultry  wings, 
Relentlefs  death  fits  clofe  behind  : 
Now  gafping  infants  and  a  wife  in  tears, 

With  piercing  groans  falute  his  ears, 
Thro'  every  vein  the  thrilling  torments  roll  j. 
While  fweet  and  bitter  are  at  ftrife 
In  thofe  dear  miferies  of  life, 
Thofe  tendered  pieces  of  his  bleeding  foul. 

The  pleafing  fenfe  of  love  a  while 
Mixl  with  the  heart  ake  may  the  pain  beguile, 

And  make  a  feeble  fight ; 
Till  forrows  like  a  gloomy  deluge  rife, 
Then  every  fmiling  pafiion  dies, 
And  hope  alone  with  wakeful  ey^s 
Darkling  and  folitary  waits  the  flow  returning  ligafc, 
IV.. 
Here  then  let  my  ambition  reft, 
May  I  be  moderately  hleffc 
When  I  the  laws  of  love  obey  ; 
Let  but  my  pleafure  and  my  pain 
In  equal  balance  ever  reign, 
Or  mount  by  turns  and  fink  again, 
And  fhare  juffc  meafures  of  alternate  fway. 
So  Damon  lives,  and  ne'er  complains  j 
Scarce  can  we  hope  diviner  fcenes 

On  this  dull  ftage  of  clay  : 
The  tribes  beneath  the  northern  bear 
Submit  to  darknefs  half  the  year, 
Since  half  the  year  is  day. 

U  a  On 


532     LYRIC    POEMS,      Book  II. 

On  the  Death  of  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  just  after  Mr.  Dry-. 
den.     1700. 

An     E  P  I  G  R  A  M. 

DRYDEN  is  dead,  DRYDEN  alone  could  fing; 
The  full-grown  glories  of  a  future  king. 
Now  GLOS'TER  dies  :  thus  kffer  heroes  live 
By  that  immortal  breath  that  poets  give  ; 
And  fcarce  furvive  the  mufe  :  but  William  ftands, 
Nor  alks  his  honours  from  the  poet's  hands. 
William  fhall  mine  without  a  Dr  yd  en's  praife, 
His  laurels  are  not  grafted  on  the  bays. 


An  Epigram  of  Martial  to  Cirinus. 


Sic  tua,    Cirini,  firomas  iplgrammata  vulgo    Ut  t?:sc 

Inilribed  to  Mr.  J  O  3  I A  H  HORT,  1694.     No\ 
Lord  Bifhop  of  Kilmore  in  Ireland. 

SO  fmooth  your  numbers,  friend,  your  verfe  fo 
fweet, 
So  fharp  the  jeft,  and  yet  the  turn  fo  neat, 
That  with  her  Martial  Rome  would  place  Cirine-, 
Rome  would,  prefer  your  fenfe  and  thought  to  mine. 
Yet  modeft  you  decline  the  public  ftage, 
To  fix  your  friend  alone  amidft  th'  applauding  age, 
SoMarodid;  the  mighty  Maro  fings  "1 

In  vaft  heroic  notes  of  vaft  heroic  things,  ( 

And   leaves  the  ode  to   dance  uron  his  FlaccusV 


rings 


Sacred  to  Virtue   &c.          .  *  233 

He  fcorn'd  to  daunt  the  dear  Horatian  lyre,  ~) 

Tho'  his  brave  genius  flaih'd  Pindaric  fire,  r 

And  at  his  will  could  filence  all  the  Lyrie  quire-.      * 
So  to  his  Varius  he  refign'd  the  praiie 
Of  the  proud  bufkin  and  the  tragic  bays, 
When  he  could  thunder  with  a  loftier  vein, 
And  fing  of  Gods  and  heroes  in  a  bolder  firain. 

A  handfome  treat,  a  piece  of  gold  or  fo, 
And  compliments  will  every  friend  beftow, 
Rarely  a  Virgil,   a  Cirine  we  meet,  ~S 

Who  lays  his  laurels  at  inferior  feet,  £ 

And  yields  the  tendereft  point  of  honour,  iviu       3 


To  Mrs.  SINGER.     (Now  Mrs.  ROWE.) 

On  the  Sight  of  some,  of  her  Divine 
Poems  never  Printed. 

July  19,  1706; 

ON  the  fair  banks'  of  gentle  Thames 
I  tun'd  my  harp;  nor  did  celeflial  themes 
Refufe  to  dance  upon  my  firings : 

There  beneath  the  evening  fky 
I  fung  my  cares  afleep,  and  raisM  my  wifhes  high 
To  everlafting  things. 
Sudden  from  Albion's  Weftem  coaft 
Harmonious  notes  come  gliding  by, 
The  neighbouring  fhepherds  knew  the  filver  found; 
*'  'Tis  PHILOMELA'S  voice  the  neighb'ring  fhep- 
herds cry : 
At  once  my  ftrings'all  filent  lie> 
At  once  my  fainting  mufe  was  lofta 
3n  the  fuperior  fweetnefs  drown' d, 

V  5  IB 


234     LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  II. 

In  vain  I  bid  my  tuneful  powers  unite; 

My  foul  retir'd,  and  It  ft  my  tongue, 
I  was  ail  car,  and  PHiLOMELA's  fong 

Was  all  divine  delight. 
II. 

Now  be  my  harp  forever  dumb, 
My  mufe  attempt  no  more.     'Twas  long  ago 

1  bid  adieu  to  mortal  things, 

To  Grecian  tale-  and  wars  of  Rome, 
'Twas  long  ago  I  broke  all  but  th'  immortal  firings-; 
Now  thole  immortal  firings  have  no  employ, 

Since  a  fair  angel  dwells  below, 
To  tune  the  notes  of  heav'n  and  propagate  the  joy, 
Let  all  my  powers  with  awe  profound 

While  PHILOMELA  fings, 
Attemd  the  rapture  of  tbe  found, 
And  my  devotion  rife  on  her  feraphic  wings. 


To  mis  Excellency 
JONATHAN  BELCHER,  Efq;  In  LONDON. 

Appointed  by  his  Majesty  King  GEORGE  II. 
To  the  Government  of  NEW-ENGLAND, 
And  now  returning  home. 

GO,  favourite  man;  fpread  to  the  wind  thy  fails? 
The  weflern  ocean  fmiles  ;  the  eaftern  gales 
Attend  thy  hour.     Ten  thoufand  vows  arife 
T'  enfure  for  thee  the  waves,  for  thee  the  Ikies, 
And  waft  thee  homeward.     On  thy  native  flrand 
Thy  Dation  throngs  to  hale  tby  bark,  to  land. 

She 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c,  235 

She  lent  thee  envoy,  to  fee u re  her  laws 
And  her  lov'd  freedom,     Heaven  fucceeds  the  caufe,. 
And  makes  thee  rider  there.     Thy  name  unites 
Thy  prince's  honours  and  thy  people's  rights, 

Twice  has  thy  zeal  been  to  thy  Sovereign,  mown 
In  German  realm?,  while  yet  the  Britifn  throne 
Sigh'd  for  the  houfe  of  Erunfivick.     There  thykne* 
Paid  its  firft  debt  to  future  Majefly, 
And  own'dthe  title,  e'er  the  crown  had  {bed 
Its  radiant  honours  round  the  royal  Father's  head, 
Long  has  thy  nation  lov'd  thee ;  fage  in  youth, 
In  manhood  nobly  bold,  and  firm  to  truth  ; 
Shining  in  arts  of  peace  ;  yet  'midil  a  ftorr.i 
Skilful  t'advife,  and  vigorous  to  perform  : 
Kind  to  the  world,  and  duteous  to  the  ikies  ; 
Diftrefsand  want  to  thee  direcl:  their  eyes; 
Thy  life  a  public  good.     What  heavn'ly  ray. 
What  courteous  fpirit  pointed  out  thy  way, 
To  make  new-Albion  bleft,  when  Geange  the  jufS 
Gave  up  the  joyful  nation  to  thy  truft  ? 
Great  George  rewards  thy  zeal  in  happy  Iiouf 
With  a  bright  beam  of  his  imperial  power. 

Go,  Belcher,  go:  affume  thy  glorious fway  : 
Faction  expires,  and  Bojlon  longs  t'obey. 
Beneath  thy  rule  may  truth  and  virtue  fpread  \ 
Divine  religion  raife  aloft  her  head, 
And  deaLtheir  bleffings  round.     Let  India  hear 
That  JESUS  reigns,  and  her  wild  tribes  prepare 
For  heavenly  joys.     Thy  power  {hall  rule  by  love  5 
So  reigns  our  JESUS  in  his  realms  above. 
Illuftrious  pattern  !  let  him  fix  thine  eye, 
Aad  guide  thy  hand.    HE  from  the  worlds  on  higfif 


Came 


e36       LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  II 

Came  cmce  an  Envoy,  and  retum'd  a  King  :  ■} 

The  fons  of  light  in  throngs  their  homage  bring ;      ( 
While  glory,  life  and  joy  beneath  his  fceptre  fpring.  J 

March  $1,   1730. 

I.    WATTS. 


The  End  of  the  Second  Book, 


HORJE 


HORM    LYRIC  JR. 

I iiiii  n— i 

BOOK       HI. 

Sacred  to  the  Memory  of  the  Dead. 

An  Epltaph  on  King  William,  III.. 

Of  glorious  memory,  who  died  March  8,  JJQi*. 
1. 

BENEATH  thefe  honours  of  a  tomb, 
Greatness  in  humble  ruin  lies : 
(How  earth  confines  in  narrow  room 
What  Heroes  leave  beneath  the  Ikies! 

II. 
Preferve,  O  venerable  P#le, 
Inviolate,  thy  facred  truft; 
To  thy  cold  arms  the  BRITISH  Ifle.,. 
Weeping,  commits  herricheft  dufh 

III. 
Ye  gentleft  Mimfiers  of  Fate, 
Attend  the  monarch  as  he  lies, 
And  bid  the  fofteft  Slumbers  wait 
With  filken  cords  to  bind  his  eyes. 

VL    . 
Reft  his  dear  Sivor4  beneath  his  bead ; 

Round  him  hi?  faithful  arms  fhail  ftand  J. 

Fix  his  bright  JEnfigns  on  his  bed, 

The  guards  and  honours  of  our  land.. 

V. 

Ye  fifier  arts  of  Paint  and  Kcrfe, 

Placo.  Albion  fainting  by  his  fide,  Kse 


238     LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  IK 

Her  groans  arifing  o'er  the  hearfe, 
And  Belgia  finking  when  he  dy'd. 

VI. 
High  o'er  the  grave  Religion  fet 
In  folemn  gold  ;  pronounce  the  ground 
Sacred,  to  har  unhallow'd  feet, 
And  plant  her  guardian  Virtues  round. 

■  VII. 
Fair  Liberty  in  fables  dreft, 
Write  hislov'd  name  upon  his  urn, 
WILLIAM,  the fcourge  of  tyrants  fajlt 
And  aive  of  princes  yd  unborn. 

VIII. 
Sweet  Peace  his  facred  relkks  keep, 
With  olives  blooming  round  her  head, 
And  flretch  her  wings  acrofs  the  deep 
To  blefs  the  nations  with  the  fhade. 

IX. 
Stand  on  the  pile,  immortal  Fame, 
Broad  fhrs  adorn  thy  brighteft  robe. 
Thy  thoufand  voices  found  his  name 
In  filver  accents  round  the  globe. 

X. 
Flattery  (hall  faint  beneath  the  found, 
While  hoary  Truth  infpires  the  fong ; 
Envy  grow  pale  and  bite  the  ground, 
And  Slander  gnaw  her  forky  tongue. 

XI. 
Night  and  the  Grave  remove  your  gloom  ; 
Darknefs  becomes  the  vulgar  dead; 
But  Glory  bids  the  royal  tomb 
Difdain  the  horrors  o{  a  fhade. 

xir. 

Glory  with  all  her  lamps  fhall  burn, 
And  watch  the  warrior's  fieeping  clay, 

Tiii 


Sacred  to  Virtue,  &c.  agg 

"Tilt  the  lafi:  trumpet  rouze  his  urn 
To  aid  the  triumphs  of  the  day. 


On  the  fudden  Deat  h  of 
Mrs.  MARY    PEACOCK. 

An  Elegiac  Song  fent  in  a  Letter  of  Condo- 
lence io  Mr.  N.  P.  Merchant  at  Anifttr- 
dam. 

I. 

HARK!  me  bids  all  her  friends  adieu-; 
Some  angel  calls  her  to  the  fpheres ; 
Our  eyes  the  radiant ,  faint  purfue 
Thro'  liquid  telefcopes  of  tears. 

II. 
Farewel,  bright  foul,  a  fnort  -farewel, 
Till  we  mall  meet  again  above 
Jn  the  fweet  groves  where  pleafure3  dwell. 
And  trees  of  life  bear  fruits  of  love. 

III. 
There  glory  fits  on  every  face, 
There  friendfhip  fmilesin  every  eye, 
There  fhall  our  tongues  relate  the  graee 
That  led  us  homeward  to  the-fky. 

IV. 
"O'er  all  the  names  of  Cbriji  our  king 
Shall  our  harmonious  voices  rove, 
-Our  harps  fhall  found  from  every  firing 
The  wonders  of  his  bleeding  love. 

V. 
-Come,  fovereign  Lord,  dear  Saviour,  ^ome, 
Remove  thefe  feparating  days, 

S«m4 


24o      LYRIC    POEMS.      Book  II, 

Send  thy  bright  wheels  to  fetch  us  home  ; 
That  golden  hour,  how  long  it  (lays  ! 

VI. 
How  long  rauft  we  lie  ling-ring  here, 
While  faints  around  us  take  their  flight  ? 
Smiling  they  quit  this  du(ky  fphere, 
And  mount  the  hills  of  heavenly  light, 

VII. 
Sweet  foul,  we  leave  thee  to  thy  reft> 
Enjoy  thy  Jefus,  and  thy  God, 
Till  we,  from  bands  of  clay  releaft, 
Spring  out  and  climb  the  mining  road. 

VIII. 
While  the  dear  duft  fhe  leaves  behind 
Sleeps  in  thy  bofom,  facred  tomb, I 
Soft  be  her  bed,  her  (lumbers  kind, 
And  all  her  dreams  of  joy  to  come. 


To  the  Reverend  Mr.  JOHN  SHOWER,  on 
the  Death  of  his  Daughter  Mrs.  Anne  Warner  y 

Reverend  atod  dear  Sir; 

TJO  W great foever  ivas  myfenfe  of  your  /o/j,  yet  I  did 
*  not  think  myfelfft  to  offer  any  lines  of  comfort :  your 
avn  meditations  can  furnifb  you  ivith  many  a  delightful 
truth  in  the  mid f  of  fo  heavy  aforroiv;  for  the  covenant 
of  grace  has  brighinefs  enough  in  it  to  gild  the  mofi  gloomy 
providence  ;  and  to  that  fiveet  covenant  your  foul  is  no 
firanger.  My  otvn  thoughts  revere  much  imprefl  ivith  the 
tidings  of  your  daughter's  death  j  and  tho*  J  made  many  a. 
reflection  on  the  vanity  of  mankind  in  its  lefl  ejlate>  yet  I 
tnujl  acknowledge  that  my  temper  leads  me  mofl  to  the  plea*' 
fantfeenes  of 'heaven ,  and  that  future  ivorld  of  blejfedntfs. 
When  I  recoflifl  the  memory  cf  my  friends  that  are  dcad> 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead.         241 

I  frequently  rove  into  the  world  of  fpirits,  end  fear  oh 
them  out  there :  thus  I  endeavoured  to  trace  IVLrs-*  Warr.er; 
and  thefe  thoughts  crowding  fafi  upon  -me,  Ifet  them  dcivn 
fenny  own  entertainment.  The  verfe  breaks  off  abruptly 
becaufe  I  had  no  dfign  to  writeafnfbed  elegy  ;  and  befdes , 
when  I  was  fallen  upon  the  dark fide  rf  death,  I  had  no 
mind  to  tarry  there.  If  the  lines  I  have  ivritten  be  fo  hap- 
py as  to  entertain  you  a  little,  and  divert  your  grief  the 
timefpeni  in  compofing  them  fall  not  be  reckoned  amor.g  my 
loll  hours,  and  the  review  will  be  more  pleafngto,   SlR, 

Your  affectionate  humble  fervant, 
Decern.  22.   1707.  /.   W. 

An  elegiac  Thought  on  Mrs.  Anne  Warner  zeho 
died  ofthefmall-pox,  Bee.  18,  1707,  at  one 
of  the  dock  in  the  morning ;  a  few  days  after 
the  birth  and  death  of  her  frfi  child. 

AWAKE,  my  mufe,  range  the  wide  world  cf  fouls 
And  feek  VERNERA  fled;   with  upward  aim 
Direct  thy  wing;   for  fhe  was  born  from  heaven, 
Fuliili'd  her  vifit,  and  retum'd  on  high. 

The  midnight  watch  of  angels  that  patrole, 
The  "Britifh  Iky,  have  notie'd  her  afcent 
Near  the  meridian  ftar;  purfue  the  tract 
To  the  bright  confines  of  immortal  day 
And  paradife,  her  home.     Say,  my  Urania, 
(For  nothing  'fcapes  thy  fear  eh,  nor  canft  thou  mifs 
So  fair  a  fpirit)   fay,  beneath  what  lizde 
Of  Amarant,  or  chearful  ever-green, 
She  fits,  recounting  to  her  kindred-minds 
Angelic  or  humane,  her  mortal  toil 
And  travels  thro'  this  howling  wildernefs  : 
£y  what  divine  protections  fhe  efcap'd 

X  Thofe 


42     LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  III. 

hofc  deadly  fnarcs  when  youth  and  Satan  leagu'd 
In  combination  to  affail  her  virtue  ; 
(Snares  let  to  murder  fouls)  but  heav'n  fecur*d 
The  favourite  nymph,  and  taught  her  vi&ory. 
Or  does  fhe  feek,  or  has  fhe  found  her  babe 
Amongft  the  infant  -nation  of  the  bleft, 
And  clafp'd  it  to  her  foul,  to  fatiate  there 
L'he  young  maternal  paliinn,  and  abfolve 
The  unfuifili'd  embrace  ?  Thrice  happy  child  ! 
That  law  the  light,  and  turn'ri  its  eyexafidc 
From  our  dim  regions  to  th'  eternal  fun, 
And  led  the  parent's  way  to  glory  !  There 
"hou  art  for  ever  hers,  with  powers  enlarg'd 
or  love  reciprocal  and  fweei  ccnvcrfc. 
Behold  her  anceftcrs  (a  pious  race) 
Uig'd  in  fair  order,  at  her  fight  rejoice 
nd  fing  her  welcome.     She  along  their  feats 
liding  falutes  thein  all  with  honours  due", 
zh  as  are  paid  in  heaven  :    and  laft  fhe  finds 
manfioH  fafhion'd  of  diflingurftVd  light, 
.t  vacant  :  This  (with  fare  prefage  fhe  cries) 
t :■. : its  m v  fat oer  ;   ilI..:  i  ,; ve ? 

jtu  long,  alas,  bstv  long!   (  1  hen  cails  her  mate) 
V,   thou  dear  pctliier  of  tizy  mortal  & 
iet  and  partake  my  bl'fs  :    ive  are' Jar  ever  one. 
Ay  me!  where  roves  my  fancy!  what  kind  dr.  -ms 
oud  will;  fweet  violence  on  my  wakingmind  ! 
rhapsillufion&all!  Inform  njc,  mufe, 
iQfes  fhe  rather  to  retire  apart 
■,  retpllecH  her  diffiputed  powers, 
id  call  her  thought?  her  own  ;   fy  lately  freed 
.  rom  earth's  vain  fcenes,  pay  vifits,  gratuiations, 
From  Hymen's  hurrying  and  tumult     us  joys, 
And  fears,  and  pang?,  fierce  pings  that   v.ro'l 
death. 


To  the  Memory  of  tke  Dead-'.         24 

Tell  me  on  what  fublimcr  theme  fhe  dwells 
In  contemplation,  with  unerring  clue 
Infinite  truth  purfning.     (When,  my  foul, 
O  when  (hall  thy  releafe  from  cumb'rous  flefh 
Pais  the  great  feal  of  heaven  ?   What  happy  Lour 
Shall  give  thy  thoughts  a  Joofe  tofoar  and  trace 
The  intellectual  world  ?  Divine  delight  ! 
VERNERA's  loVd  employ  !)   Perhaps  ilie  fings 
To  fome  new  golden  harp  th'  almighty  deeds, - 
The  names,  the  honours  of  her  Saviour  God, 
His  crofs,  his  grave,  his  victory,  and  his  crown  : 
Oh  could  I  imitate  th'  exalted  notes, 
And  mortal  ears  could  bear  them. — — . — 

Or  lies  fhe  new  before  th'  eternal  throne 
Proftrate  in  humble  form,  with  deep  devotion 
O'crwheim'd,  .nd  fell -abafe" men t  at  the  fight 
Of  the  uncover 'd  Godhead  face  to  face  ? 
Seraphic  crowns  pay  homage  at  Lis  feet, 
And  hers  among'ft  them,  not  of  dimmer  ore, 
Norfet  with  meaner  gems  :   but  vain  ambition, 
And  emulatios^ain  and  fond  conceit, 
And  pride  for  ever  banifh'.d  flies  the  place, 
Cuift  pride,  the  drefs  of  hell.     Tell  me,  Urania, 
Plow  her  joys  heighten,  and  her  golden  hours 
Circle  in  love.      0  thrnip  upon  my  foul 
Some  blifsful  image  of  the  fair  deceas'd 
To  call  my  paffiorss  and  my  eyes  afide 
from  the  dear  breathless  clay,  diftreffing  fight! 
1  lcok  and  mourn  and  gaze  with  greedy  view 
Of  melancholy  fondnefs  ;   tears  bedewing 
That  form  fo  late  defir'd,  fo  late  belov'd, 
Now  loathfnme  and  unlovely.  '   3**£e  difeafe, 
That  leagu'd  with  nature's  fharpefi  pains,  andfpoil 
So  fvyeet  a  Ptruclure  !   The  impoifoning  taint 
O'trfpreadsthe  building  wrought  with  {kill  divine 
X  a  Ai 


244     LYRIC   POEMS,     Book  III. 

And  ruins  the  rich  temple  to  the  duft  ! 

Was  this  the  countenance,  where  the  world  ad- 
mir'd 
Features  of  wit  and  virtue  ?  this  the  hce 
Where  love  triumph'd?  and  beauty  on  theft  checks, 
As  on  a  throne-,  beneath  her  radiant  eyes 
Was  fcated  to  advantage  ;  mild,  ferene, 
Reflecting  rofy  light  ?  i'o  fits  the  fun 
(Fair  eye  of  heaven  !)  upon  a  crimfon  cloud 
Near  the  horizon,  and  with  gentle  ray 
Smiles  lovely  round  the  fky,  till  rifing  fogs, 
Portending  night,  with  foul  and  heavy  wing 
Involve  the  golden  flar,  and  fink  him  down 


On  the  Death  of  an  Aged  and 
Honour'd  Relative.  Mrs.  M.  W. 
July  1$,  1693. 


I  Know  the  kindred  mind.     'Tis  fhe,  'tis  fhe  ; 
Among  the  heav'nly  forms  1  fee 
The  kindred-mind  from  fiefhly  bondage  free  : 
O  how  unlike  the  thibg  was  lately  feen 
Groaning  and  panting  on  the  bed, 
With  ghaflly  air,  and  languifh'd  head, 
Life  on  this  fide  there  the  dead, 
While  the    delaying  flefh  lay  ihivering  between  ! 
II. 
Long  did  the  earthly  houfe  reftrain 
In  toiifome  flavery  that  ethereal  gueft  ; 
Prifon'd  her  round  in  walls  of  pain, 
And  twilled  cramps  and  arches  with  her  chain  ; 

Till 


To  the  Memory  cf  the  Dead.  245 

Tili  by  the  weight  of  numerous  days  oppreft 

The  earthly  hoafe  began  to  reel, 
The  pillars  trembled,  and  the  building  fell; 
The  captive  foul  became  her  own  again. 
Tir'd  with  the  forrows  and  the  carts, 

A  tedious  train  of  fourfcore  years, 

The  pris'ner  fmil'd  to  be  releait, 
She  felt  her  fetters  loofe,  and  mounted  to  her  reft. 

1!I. 
Gaze  on,  my  foul,  and  let  a  perfect  view 

Paint  her  idea  all  anew  ; 
Rafe  out  thofe  melancholy  fnapes  of  wee 
That  hang  around  thy  memory,  and  becloud  it  fo. 
Come  Fancy,  come,  with  effaces  refln'd, 

With  youthful  green,  and  ipctiefs  white  ; 
Deep  be  the  tincture,  and  the  colours  blight 
T'  exprefs  the  beauties  of  a  naked  mind. 

Provide  no  glooms  to  form  a  (hade  j 
All  things  above  of  vary'd  light  are  made, 
Nor  can  the  heav'nly  piece  require  a  mortal  aid. 

But  if  the  features  too  divine 

Beyond  the  power  of  fancy  fnlne. 
Conceal  th'  inimitable  ftr  okes  behind  a  graceful  ihrine 
IV. 

Defcribe  the  faint  from  head  to  feet, 
Make  all  the  lines  in  juft  proportion  meet; 
But  let  her  pofture  be 

Filling  a  chair  of  high  degree  ; 
Obferve  how  near  it  ftands  to  the   almighty  feat. 

Paint  the  new  graces  of  her  eyes ; 
Freih  in  her  looks  let  fprightly  youth  arife,  ■  "     % 

And  joys  unknown  below  the  fkies. 
.  Virtue  that  lives  conceal'd  below, 
And  to  the  breaft  confm'd, 

Sits  here  triumphant  on  the  brow, 

X  3  And 


246    LYRIC     P  0  E  M  S,    Book  III. 

And  breaks  with  radiant  glories  through 
The  features  of  the  mind. 
Exprefs  her  pafiion  ftiil  the  lame, 
But  more  divinely  fweet ; 

Love  has  an  everlafting  flame, 
And  makes  the  work  complete. 
V. 
The  painter  mufewith  glancing  eye 
Obferv'd  a  manly  fpirit  nigh  * 

That  death  had  long  disjoin'd  : 
"  In  the  fair  tablet  they  fhall  (land 
United  by  a  happier  band  : 
She  faid,  and  fix'd  her  fight,  and  drew  her  manly 

mind. 
Recount  the  years,  my  fong,  (a  mournful  rouisd!) 

Since  he  wasfeen  on  earth  no  more  : 
He  fought  in  lower  leas  and  drown'd  ; 
Eut  victory  and  peace  he  found 
On  the  fuperior  fhore. 
There  now  his  tuneful  breath  in  facred  fon^s 
Employs  th'  European  and  the  eaftern  tongues. 
Let  the  awful  truncheon  and  the  flute, 
The  pencil  and  the  well  known  lute, 
Powerful  numbers,  charming  wit, 
And  every  art  and  fcience  meet, 
And  bring  their  laurels  to  his  hand,  or  lay  them  at 
-his  feetw 

VI. 


*  My  Grandfather  Mr.  Thomas  Watts  had  fuel  ac- 
quaintance ivitb  the  mathematics,  painting,  muftck,  and 
jcefy,  life,  as  gave  him  corfluerable  ejleem  among  his  con- 
temporaries. He  tv as  commander  of  a  Jlip  of  tvart 
l6j,6,  arid  by  II Giving  up  of  ihefoip  ;/j  the  Dti(b  W»r> 
Jjt  \va:  drowned  in  bis  youth, 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead,  247 

VI. 

'Tis  done.     What  beams  of  glory  fall 

(Rich  varnifh  of  immortal  art) 

To  giid  the  bright  original ! 
'Tis  done.     The  mufe  has  now  perform'd  her  part, 
Bring  down  the  piece,  Urania,  from  above, 

And  let  my  Honour  and  my  Love 
Dref5  it  with  chains  of  gold  to  hang  upon  my  heart, 


A  Funeral  Poem  on  the  Death  of  Thomas 
Gun/ton,  Efq.  prefented  to  the  Right  Ho- 
nourable the  Lady  Abney,  Lady  Mayorefs  of 
London, 

Madam,  July,  I/OT. 

HAD  I  been  a  common  mourner  at  the  funeral 
©f  the  dear  Gentleman  deceafed,  I  fhould  have 
laboured  after  more  of  art  in  the  following  compa- 
ction, to  fupply  the  defect  of  nature,  and  to  feign  a 
forrow;  but  the  uncommon  ccndefcenllon  of  his 
friendlhip  to  me,  the  inward  efteem  I  pay  his  me- 
mory, and  the  vaft  and  tender  fenfe  I  have  of  the 
lofs,  make  all  the  methods  of  art  needlefs,  whilil 
natural  grief  fupplies  more  than  all. 

I  had  refolved  indeed  to  lament  in  fighs  and  ll- 
lence,  and  frequently  checked  the  too  forward 
mufe ;  but  the  importunity  was  not  to  be  refilled ; 
long  lines  of  forrow  flowed  in  upon  me  ere  I  was 
aware,  whilft  I  took  many  a  folitary  walk  in  the 
garden  adjoining  to  his  feat  at  Newington ;  nor 
could  1  free  myfelf  from  the  croud  of  melancholy 
ideas.  Your  Ladyfhip  will  find  throughout  the 
poem  that  the  fair  and  unfinifhed  building  winch  he 
1  ■  h.a& 


248     LYR.IC    POEMS,     Bock  III. 

had  juft  raifefl  forhimfelf,  gave  almoft  ail  the  turns 
©f  mourning  to  my  thoughts;  for  i  purlke  no  other 
topics  of  elegy  than  what  my  paflion  and  my  fenfes 
led  me  to. 

The  poem  roves,  as  my  eye?  and  grief  did, 
from  one  part  of  the  fshrick  to  the  other:  it  rifei 
from  the  foundation,  hdutes  the  walls,  the  uooi  s, 
and  the  windows,  drops  a  tear  upon  the  roof,  and 
climbs  the  tunet,  that  pleafant  retreat,  whew  I 
promifed  myfeif  manyfweet  hours  of  his  conveif-ti- 
cn;  there  my  fong  wanders  amengfe  the  delightful 
fubjecls  divine  and  moral,  which  ufed  to  entertain 
cur  happy  leifure;  and  thence  defcends  to  the  fields 
and  the  fhady  walks  where  1  fo  often  enjoyed  his  pleaf- 
ing  difcourfe;  my  forrovvs  ciffufe  themfilves  there 
without  a  limit :  1  had  quite  forgotten  all  fcheme 
and  method  of  writing,  till  I  correct  myfeif,  and 
rife  to  the  turret  again  to  lament  that  cefolate  feat. 
Now  if  the  critics  laugh  at  the  folly  of  the  itiufe  for 
taking  fo  much  notice  of  the  golden  bail,  let  them 
cenfider  that  the  meaneft  thing  that  belonged  to  fo 
valuable  a  perion  fiill  gave  forne  frefh  and  doleful 
rcfieclious:  and  I  tranferibe  nature  without  rule, 
and  reprcfent  friendfhip  in  a  mourning  drefs,  aban- 
doned to  deepefl  forrow,  and  with  a  negligence  be- 
coming woe  unfeign'd* 

Had  I  defigned  a  ■  complete  ele^y,  Madam,  on 
your  dearefl  brother,  and  intended  it  fcr  publick  view, 
I  (hould  have  followed  the  ufual  for  n  s  of  poetry, 
fo  far  at  leait,  as  to  fpend  fome  pages  in  the  charac- 
ter and  praifes  of  the  deceafed,  and  thence  have  tak- 
en occalion  to  call  mankind  to  complain  aloud  of  the 
univerfal  and  unfpeakable  !ofs:  but  I  wrote  merely 
for  myfeif  as  a  friend  of  the  dead,  and  to  eafe  my 
full  foul  by  breathing  out  my  own  complaints;  I 


, 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead.         149 


knev,'  his  character  and  virtues  fo  well,  that  there 
was  no  need  to  mention  them  while  I  talked  only 
with  myfelf;  for  the  irr.agc  c:  them  was  ever  pre- 
fent  with  me,  which  kept  the  pain  at  the  heart  in- 
tenfe  and  lively,  and  my  tears  Sowing  with  my 
verfe. 

Perhaps  your  Ladyihip  will  expecl  fome  divine 
thoughts  and  facred  meditations,  mingled  with  a 
fubject  fo  folemn  as  this  is :  had  1  formed  a  defign 
of  offering  it  to  your  hands,  1  had  compofed  a  more 
chriitian  poem;  but  it  was  grief  purely  natural  for 
a  death  [o  furprizing,  that  drew  all  the  ftrokes  of 
it,  and  therefore  my  reflections  are  chiefly  of  a  mo- 
ral firaih.  Such  as  it  is,  your  Ladyihip  requires  a 
copy  of  it;  but  let  it  not  touch  your  foul  too  tender- 
ly nor  renew  your  own  mournings.  Receive  it, 
Madam,  as  an  offering  of  love  and  tears  at  the  tomb 
of  a  departed  friend  and  let  it  abide  with  you  as  a 
witnefs  of  that  affectionate  refpect  and  honour  that 
T  bore  him;  all  which,  as  your  Lady fhip's  m oft 
rightful  due,  both  by  merit  and  fucceffion,  is  now 
humbly  offered,  by  Madam, 

Your  Ladyihip' s  moil  hearty  and  obedient  fervant, 
I.     WATT  S. 


To  the  dear  Memory  of  my  Honoured  Friend, 
JTHOMAS  GUNSTON,  Eib;  who  died  No- 
vember 11,  1 7  co,  when  he  had  jaft  finifhed  his 
feat  at  Newington. 

OF  Mailed  hopes,  and  cffhort  withering  joys, 
Sing,  heavenly  mufe.    Try  thine  ethereal  voice 
In  funeral  numbers  and  a  doleful  long  ; 
GUNSTON  the  juft,  the  generous,  and  the  young, 

GUNSTON 


250      LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  III. 

GTNCTON  the  friend  is  dead.     O  empty  name 

Of  earthly  blifs!  'tis  all  an  airy  dream, 

All  a  vain  thought  !   Our  fearing  farcies  rife 

On  treacherous  wings!   and  hopes  that  touch    the 

fkies 
Drag  hut  a  longer  ruin  thro'  the  downward  air, 
And  plunge  the  failing  joy  ftill  deeper  in  defpair. 
How  did  our  fouls  Hand  fiatter'd  and  prepared 
To  (hciit  him  welcome  to  the  feat  he  rear'd  ! 
'J  here  the  dear  man  mould  fee  his  hopes  complete^ 
Sniiling,  and  tailing  every  lawful  fweet, 
'i  hat  peace  and  plenty  brings,  while  numerous  years 
Circling  delightful  play'd  around  the  fphtres  : 
Revolving  funs  mould  ftill  renew  his ftrength, 
And  draw  th'  uncommon  thread  to  an  unfual  length. 
But  haflyfafe  thruifs  her  dread  fhears  between, 
Cuts  the  young,  life  off,  and  (huts  Up  the  fcene. 
Thus  airy  Plefifure  dances  in  our  eyes, 
And  fpreads  fa.lfe  images  in  fair  diiguife, 
T*  allure  our  fouls,  tilljuft  within  our  arms 
1  he  vifion  dies,  and  all  the  painted  charms 
Flee  quick  away  from  the  purfuing  fight, 
Till  they  are  left  in  fliades,  and   mingle    with  the 
night. 

Mufe,  frretch  thy  wings  and  thy  fad  journey  bend 
To  the  fair  Fabriek  that  thy  dying  friend 
l^uilt  namelefs:   'twill  fugged:  a  rhoufand  things 
hi*  urnful  and  foft  as  my  Urania  fings. 

How  did  he  lay  the  deep  foundations  f.roug, 
Marking  the  bounds,  and  rear  the  walls  along, 
Solid. and  hdtirg;  there  a  numerous  train 
Of  happy  GUNSTON'S,  might  in  plea fure  reign. 
While  nations  perifh,  and  long  ages  run, 
Nations  unborn,  and  ages  unbegun  : 
Not  time  i.tfelf  fiiouid  wafle  the  blcil  eflate, 


To  the  Memory   of  the  Bead-,  251 

Nor  the  tenth  race  rebuild  the  ancient  feat-. 

How  fond  our  fancies  are  !  the  founder  dies  ^ 

Childlefs;   his  niters  weep  and  clofehis  eyes,  C 

Andwak  upon  his  hearfe  with  never  ceaimg  cries,   j 

Lofty  and  flow  it  moves  to  meet  the  tomb, 

While  weighty  furrow  nods  on  every  plume  ; 

A  thoufand  groans  his  dear  remains  convey  ^ 

To  his.  cold.Id  gi?ig  in  a  bed  of  clay,  C 

His  country's  facred  tears  weliwaterir gall  thy  '.ray.  ) 

See  the  dull  wheels  roil  on  the  fable  road  : 

But  no  dear  fon  to  tread  the  mournful  load, 

And  fondly  hind  drop  his  young  ibrrows  there, 

The  father's  urn  bedewing  with  a  filial  tear. 

O  had  he  left  us  cue  behind,  to  play 

Wanton  about  the  painted  hall,  and  fay, 

This  was  my  father*^  with  impatient  joy 

In  my  fond  arms  I'd  clafp  the  fmi'iug  boy, 

And  call  him  my  young  friend  :  but  awful  fate, 

Defign'd  the  mighty  ftrcke  as  lafting  as  'twas  great. 

And  rnuft  this  building  then,  this  cofily  frame 
Stand  here  for  ftrangers?  mud  fo me  unknown  name 
Poffefs  thefe  ream,    the  labours  of  my  friend  ? 
Why  were  thefe  walls  rais'd  for  this  huplefs  end? 
Why  thefe  apartments  all  ad^rn'd  fo  gay  ? 
Why  his  rich  fancy  iavifh'd  chus  away  ? 
Mufe,  view  the  painting*,  how  the  hovering  light 
Plays  e'er  the  colours  in  a  wanton  flight, 
And  mingled  ibades  wrought  in  by  foft  degrees, 
Give  a  fweet  foil  to  ail  the  charming  piece  : 
But  night,  eternal  night,  hangs  black  around 
The  difmal  chambers  of  the  hollow  ground, 
And  foiid  fhades  unmingled  round  nisbed 
Stand  hideous ;  earthly  fogs  embrace  his  head, 
Andnoifome  vapours  glide  alc::g  his  face 
Rifing  perpetual.     Mufe,  iorn-ke  the  place, 


252     LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  III, 

Flee  the  raw  damps  of  the  unwholefome  clay 
Look  to  his  airy  fpacious  hall,  and  lay, 
'«  How  has  he  chang'd  it  for  a  loathfome  cave, 
"  Confin'd  and  crowded  in  a  narrow  grave  !" 

Th*  unhappy  houfe  looks  defolate  and  mourns, 
And  every  door  groans  doleful  as  it  turns  ; 
The  pillars  languifh  ;  and  each  lofty  wail 
Stately  in  grief  laments  the  mailer's  fall. 
In  drops  of  briny  dew,  the  fabnek  bears 
Hisfaint  refemblance,  and  renews  my  tears. 
Solid  and  fquare  it  rifes  from  below  ; 
A  noble  air  without  a  gaudy  fhow 
Reigns  thro'  the  model,  and  adorns  the  whole, 
Manly  and  plain.     Such  was  the  builder's  foul. 

O  how  I  love  to  view  the  irately  frame, 
That  dear  memorial  of  the  belt  iov'd  name! 
Then  could  1  wifh  for  fome  prodigious  cave 
Vaft  as  his  feat,  and  filent  as  hio  grave, 
Where  the  tall  fhanes  flretch  to  the  hideous  roof, 
Forbid  the  day,  and  guard  the  fun  beams  off  i 
Thither,  my  willing  feet,  fhould  ye  be  drawn 
At  the  grey  twilight,  and  the  early  dawn  : 
There  fweetly  fad  fhould  my  foft  minutes  roll, 
Numbring  the  forrows  of  my  drooping  foul. 
But  thefe  are  airy  thoughts  !  fubftantial  grief 
Grows  by  thofe  ohje&s  that  fhould  yield  relief; 
Fond  of  my  woes  1  heave  my  eyes  around, 
My  grief  from  every  profpect  courts  a  wound  ; 
VieWsthe  green  gardens,  views  the  fmiling  fkies, 
Still  my  heart  finks,  and  frill  my  cares  arife  ; 
My  wand'ring  feet  round  the  fair  manficn  rove, 
And  there  to  footh  my  forrows  I  indulge  my  love, 

Oft  have  I  laid  the  awful  Calvin  by, 
And  thefweet  Cowley,  with  impatient  eye 
To  fee  thofe  wall?,  pay  the  fad  vifjt  there, 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead.  253 

And  drop  the  tribute  of  an  hourly  tear  : 

Still  I  behold  feme  melancholy  fcene, 

With  many  a  penfivc  thought,  and  many  ailgh  bs= 

tween. 
Two  days  ago  we  took  the  evening  airf 
I,  and  my  grief,  and  my  Urania  there  ; 
Say,  my  Urania,  how  the  weftern  fun 
Broke  from  black  clouds,  and  in  full  glory  fhone 
Gilding  the  roof,  then  dropt  into  the  fea, 
And  fudden  night  devour'd  thefweet  remains  of  day? 
Thus  the  bright  youth  juft  rear'd  his  mining  head 
From  obTcure  fhades  of  life,   and  funk  among  the 

dead. 
The  rifing  fun  adorn'd  with  all  his  light 
Smiles  on  thefe  walls  again  :   but  endlefs  night 
Reigns  uncontroul'd  where  the  dear  Gunston  lies, 
He's  fet  for  ever,  and  mull  never  rife. 
Then  why  thefe  beams,  unfeafonable  ftar, 
Thefe  lightfome  fmiles  defcending  from  afar, 
To  greet  a  mourning  houfe  ?  In  vain  the  day  ; 
Breaks  thro'  the  windows  with  a  joyful  ray, 
And  marks  a  mining  path  along  the  floors, 
Bounding  the  evening  and  the  morning  hours; 
In  vain  it  bounds  'em  :  while  vaft  emptinefs         ^ 
And  hollow  filence  reigns  thro*  all  the  place,        r 
Nor  heeds  the  chearful  change  of  nature's  face.     3  . 
Yet  nature's  wheels  will  on  without  controul,       "^ 
The  fun  will  rife,  the  tuneful  fpheres  will  roll,     f 
And  the  two  nightly  Bears  walk  round  and.watch  C 

the  pole..  J 

See  while  I  fpeak,  high  on  her  fable  wheel 
Old  night  advancing  climbs  the  eaftern  hill: 
Troops  of  dark  clouds  prepare  her  way ;  behold, 
How  there  brown  pinions  edg'd  with  evening  gold 
Spread  fhadowing  o'er  the  houfe,  and  glide  away 
Y  Slow!? 


254    L  Y  R  I C     POEMS,    Book  lit. 

Slowly  porfuifig  the  declining  day ; 

O'er  the  broad  Roof  they  £y  their  circuit  ftill, 

Thus  days  before  they  did,   and  days  to  come  they 

v.ill; 
But  the  black  cloud  that  fhadows  e'er  his  eyes 
Hangs  there  unmoveable,  and  never  flies: 
Fain  would  I  bid  the  envious  gloom  be  gone  ;  -j 

Ah  fruitlef  wifn !  how  are  his  curtains  draw  n  (. 

For  a  long  evening  that  defpairs  the  duwn  !  J 

Mute,  view  the  Turret:    ju ft  beneath  the  Ikies 
Lonefcme  it  itands,  and  fixes  my  fad  eyes, 
As  it  would  alk  a  tear.     O  facred  feat, 
Sacred  to  friendship  !   O  divine  retreat! 
Here  did  I  hope  my  happy  hours  t'  employ, 
And  fed  beforehand  en  the  promis'd  joy, 
"When  weary  of  the  noify  town,  my  friend 
From  mortal  cares  retiring,  fhouldafcend 
And  lead  me  thither.     We  alone  wou'd  fit 
Free  and  fecure  cf  all  intruding  feet : 
Our  thoughts  fhould  ftretch  their  longefl  wings,  and 

rife, 
Nor  bound  their  foarings  by  their  lower  fkies : 
Our  tougues  ihou'd  aim  at  everlafting  themes, 
Andfpeak  what  mortals  dare,  of  all  the  names 
Of  boundlefs  joys  and  glories,  thrones,  and  feats 
Suilt  hi^h  in  heaven  for  fouls:  we'd  trace  the  ftrceta 
Of  golden  pavement,  walk  each  blifsful  field, 
And  climb  andtafte  the  fruits  the  fpicy  mountain* 

yield  : 
Then  would  we  fwcar  to  keep  the  facred  road, 
And  walk  right  upwards  to  that  bleft  abode; 
We'd  charge  our  parting  fpirits  there  to  meet,       -\ 
There  hand  in  hand  approach  th'  almighty  feat,      C 
And  bend  our  headj  adoring  at  our  maker's  feet.    3 
Thus  fhould  we  mount  on  bold  advent'rous  wings 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead.  255 

In  high  difcourfe,  and  dwell  on  heavenly  things, 
While  the  pleas'd  hours  in  tweet  fuceeiEoii  move 
And  minutes  meafur'd,  as  they  are  above, 
By  ever  circling  joys,  and  every  mining  love. 

Anon  our  thoughts  fhou'd  lower  their  lofty  flightr 
Sink  by  degrees,  and  take  a  pleafing  fight, 
A  large  round  profpecx  of  the  fpreading  plain, 
The  wealthy  river,  and  his  winding  train, 
The  fmoaky  city,  and  the  bufy  men. 
How  we  fhould  fmile  to  fee  degenerate  worms 
Lavifh  their  lives,  and  fi^'ht  for  airy  forms 
Of  painted  honour,  dreams  of  empty  found, 
Till  envy  rife,  and  fhoot  a  fecret  wound 
At  fweiUng  glory,  fcrait  the  bubble  breaks, 
And  the  fceaes  vanifh,  a?  the  man  awakes  : 
Then  the  tall  titles  infolent  and  proud 
Sink  to  the  duft  and  mingle  with  the  crowd. 

Man  is  a  rtfllefs  thing  :  fail  vain  and  wild, 
Lives  beyond  fixty,  nor  outgrows  the  child  : 
His  hurrying  lufts  full  break  the  facred  bound 
To  feek  new  pleafures  on  forbidden  ground 
And  buy  them  all  too  dear.     Unthinking  fool, 
For  a  fhort  dying  joy  to  fell  a  deathlefs  foul! 
'  fisbut  a  grain  of  fweetnefs  they  can  fow, 
And  reap  the  long  fad  harveft  of  immortal  woe. 

Another  tribe  toil  in  a  different  ftrife, 
And  banifh  all  the  lawful  fweets  of  life, 
To  fweat  and  dig  for  gold,  to  hoard  the  oar, 
Hide  the  dear  duft  yet  darker  than  before, 
And  never  dare  to  ufe  a  grain  of  all  the  ftore. 

Happy  the  man  that  knows  the  value  juft 
Of  earthly  things,  nor  is  enflav'd  to  duft. 
?Tis  a  rich  gift  the  fkiesbut  rarely  fend 
To  fav'rite  fouls.     Then  happy  thou,  my  friend, 
For  thou,  haft  learnt  to  manage,  and  command 

Y  %  Th< 


256     LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  III. 

The  wealth  that  heaven  beftow'd  with  libera]  hand; 
Ktnce  this  fuir  ftru&ure  rofe;  and  hence  thisfeat-j 
Made  to  invite  my  not  unwilling  feet  :  C 

In  vain  'twas  made!  for  we  ihail  never  meet,  y 

And  fmile,  and  love,  andbiefs  each  other  here, 
'J  he  envious  tomb  forbids  thy  face  t'  appear, 
Detains  thee,  GUNSTON,  from  rny  longing  eyes, 
And  all  my  hopes  lie  bury'd,  where  my  GUjNSTON 
lies. 
Come  hither,  all  ye  tendcreft  fculs,  that  know 
'I  he  heights  of  fondnefs,  and  the  depths  of  woe, 
Yourg  mothers,  who  your  darling  babes  have  found 
Untimely  n.urdcr'd  with  a  ghuftly  wound  ; 
Ye  frighted  nymphs,  who  en  the  bridal  bed 
Clafp'd  in  your  arms  ycur  lovers  cold  and  dead, 
Come  ;  in  the  pomp  of  all  your  wild  dtfpair, 
With  flowing  eye-lids,  and  diforder'd  hair, 
Death  in  ycur  looks  :  come,  mixgle  grief  with  me 
And  drown  your  little  dreams  in  my  unbounded  fea. 

You  facrcd  mourners  of  a  nobler  mould, 
Born  fur  a  friend,   whofe  dear  embraces  hold 
Beyond  all  nature's  ties;  you  that  have  known 
'I  wo  happy  fouls  made  intimately  one, 
And  felt  a  parting  ftroke  :   'tis  you  muft  tell 
The  fmart,  the  twinges,  and  the  racks  I  feel  : 
1  his  foul  of  mine  that  dreadful  wound  has  borne 
Off  from  its  fide  its  deareft  half  is  torn, 
The  reft  lies  bleeding,  and  but  lives  to  mourn. 
Oh  infinite  diftrefs  !  fuch  raging  grief 
Should  command  pity,  and  defpair  relief. 
Pafficn,  methinks,  fhould  rife  from  all  my  groans, 
Give  fenfe  to  rocks,  and  fympathy  to  ftones. 
Ye  dufky  -woods  and  echoing  bills  around, 
Repeat  my  cries  with  a  perpetual  found; 
Be  all  ye  ffovv'ry  vala  with  thorns  o'er  grown, 

A 


I 


To  the  Tyiemory  of  the  Dead,  2 

AS  ft  i.-.y  furrows,  and  declare  your  owh ■••« 
Alas  !   Your  Lord  is  dead.     The  humble  plain 
TvTnft  ne'er  receive  his  courteous  fee'  again  : 
Mourn  ye  gay  fmiling'mcadows,  and  be  feeir 
In  wintry  robes,  ihitead  of  youthful  green  ; 
And  hid    the  brock,  that  ftill  runs  warbling  by, 
Move  fdent  on,  and  weep  his  ufelefs  channel  dry/ 
Hither  methinks  the  lowing  herd  fnould  come,  " 
And  moaning  turtles  murmur  o'er  his  tomb  : 
The  oak  {hall  wither,  and  the  curling  vine 
Weep  his  young  life  out,  while  his  arms  untwim 
Their  amorous  folds,  and  mix  his  bleeding  foul 

with  mine, 
Ye  ftately  elms,  in  your  long  order  mourn,* 
Strip  off  your  pride  to  drefs  your  mailer's  urn  : 
Here  gently  drop  your  leaves,  in  Read  of  tears  ;• 
Ye  elms,  the  reverend  gro%*th  of  ancient  years,* 
Stand  tail  and  naked  to  the  bluitering  rao-e 
Of  the  mad  winds ;  thus  it  becomes  your  ag-g 
To  Blew  your  forrows.     Often  ye  have  feen* 
Gur  heads  reclin'd  upon  the  riling  green ; 
Beneath  yourfacred  fhade  diffus'd  we  lav, 
Mere  Fhienbshif  reign'd  with  an  unbounded fway  : 
Hither  our  fouls  their  confiant  offlmgs  brought, 
The  burthens  of  the  breafi,  and  labours  of  the  tho'f 
Our  opening  bofoms  on  the  confcious  ground 
Spread  all  the  forrows  and  the  joys  we  found, 
And  mingled  every  care,  nor  was  it  known 
Which  of  the  pains  and  pleasures  were  our  own  - 
Then  with  an  equal  hand  and  honeii  foul  -y 

We  fhare  the  heap,  yet  both  poffefs  the  whole,     / 
And  all  the  pafftons  there  thro'  both  our  bofoms  \ 
roll.  J 

Y  3  By 

*   'There  ivas  a  long  rotv  of  tall  elms  then  (landing  ivhet  0 
/erne  years  ofter  the  lower  garden  was  made. 


2bB      LYRIC    POEMS.     Book  Ilf. 

Py  turns  we  comfort,  and  by  turns  complain, 
And  bear  and  eafe  by  turn.-  the  fympathy  of  pain. 

Friendfhip  !  myfterious  thing,  what  magic  pow'rs 
Support  thy  i'way,  and  charm  thefe  minds  of  ours  ? 
Bound  to  thy  foot  we  boaft  our  birth-right  frill, 
And  dream  of  freedom,  when  we've  loft  cur  w  ill, 
And  changed  away  our  fouls  :  at  thy  command 
We  fnatch  new  miferies  from  a  foreign  hand, 
To  call  them  ours  ;   and,   thoughtlefs  of  our  eafe, 
Plague  the  dear  felf  that  we  were  born  to  pleafe. 
Thou  tyrannefs  of  minds,  whofe  cruel  throne 
Heaps  on  poor  mortals forrows  not  their  own; 
Astho'  our  mother  nature  could  no  more  ^ 

Find  woes  fufficient  for  each  foil  fhe  bore,  f 

Friendfhip  divides  the  fhares,  and  lengthens  out   f 
the  ftore.  3 

Yet  are  we  fond  of  thine  imperious  reign,  -> 

Proud  of  the  fiavery,  wanton  in  our  pain,  / 

And  chide  the  courteous  hand  when  death  dif-   f 
folves  the  chain.  J 

Virtue,  forgive  the  thought !  the  raving  mufe 
Wild  and  defpairing  knows  not  what  fhe  does, 
Grows  mad  in  grief,  ar*Hn  her  favage  hours 
Affronts  the  name  fhe  loves  and  fhe  adores. 
She  is  thy  vot'refs  too  ;  and  at  thy  fhrine,  *) 

O  facrcd  Friendship,  offer'd  longs  divine,  f 

While  GUNSTON  liv'd,  and  both  our  fouls  were  f 
thine.  J 

Here  to  thef;  fhades  at  folemn  hours  we  came, 
To  pay  devotion  with  a  mutual  flame. 
Partners  in blifs.     Sweet  luxury  of  the  mind! 
And  fwect  the  aids  of  fenfe  !  each  ruder  wind 
Slept  in  its  caverns,  while  an  evening  breeze 
Fan'd  the  leaves  gentjy,  fporting  thro'  the  trees  : 
The  linnet  and  the  lark  there  ve/pers  fung, 

And 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead.         259 

And  clouds  of  crimfon,  o'er  th'  horizon  huno-  • 
The  flow  declining  fun  with  Hoping  wheels  ° 
Sunk  down  the  golden  Guy  behind  the  weilcrn  hills. 

Mourn,  ye, 'young  gardens,  ye  unfiniffiU  gates, 
Ye  green  indoftires,  and  ye  growing  fweets 
Lament,  for  ye  our  midnight  hours  have  known, 
And  watch 'd  us  walking  by  thefilent  moon 
In  conference  divine,  while  heavenly  fire 
Kindling  our  breaits  did  all  our  thoughts  in'fpire 
With  joys  almoft  immortal?  then  our  zeal 
Blaz'd  and  burnt  high  to  reach  th'  ethereal  hill 
And  love  refin'ri,  like  that  above  the  poles, 
Threw  both  our  arms  round  one  another's  fouls 
In  rapture  and  embraces.     Oh  forbear, 
Forbear,  my  fong  !  this  is  too  much  to  hear, 
Too  dreadful  to  repeat ;  fuch  joys  as  thef^ 
Fled  from  the  earth  for  ever  ! 

Oh  for  a  general  grief!  let  all  things  fhare 
Our  woes,  that  knew  cur  loves :  the  neighbourino- 
Let  it  be  laden  with  immortal  fighs, 
And  tell  the  gales,  that  every  breath  that  flies 
Over  thefe  fields  fhould  murmur  and  complain, 
And  kifs  the  fading  grafs,  and  propagate  the  pain. 
Weep  all  ye  buildings,  and  ye  groves  around 
For- ever  weep  :  this  is  an  endlefs  wound, 
Vaft  and  incurable.     Ye  buildings  knew 
Hisfiiver  tongue,  ye  groves  have  heard  it  too; 
At  that  dear  found  no  more  fhall  ye  rejoice, 
And  I  no  more  muft  hear  the  charmino-  voice; 
Woe  to  my  drooping  foul !  that  heavenly  breath 
That  could  fpeak  life  lies  now  congeal'd  in  death 
While  on  his  folded  lips  all  cold  and  pale 
Eternal  chains  and  heavy  filence  dwell. 

Yet  my  fond  hope  would  hear  him  fpeak  again, 
Once  more  at  le«ft,  one  gentle  word,  and  then 

GUNSTON 


ito     i  Y  R  IC    PO  E  MS,     Book  III. 

GUNSTON  aloud  I  call:  in  vain  I  cry 
GUNSTON  aloud;  for  he  mutt  ne'er  reply. 
In  vain  I  mourn,  and  drop  fhcfe? funeral  tears, 
Death  and  the  grave  have     either  eyes  nor  ears:- 
Wandring  I  tune  my  forrows  re  the  groves, 
And  vent  my  CwelUng  griefs,  and  teii  the  winds  our 

loves; 
"While  the  dear  vouch  £eepsfafl,  and  hears  them  not: 
He  hath  forgot  me  :  in  the  lonefome  vault 
Mindlefs  of  WATTS  and  friendihip,  cold  he  lies, 
Deaf  and  unthinking  chy.  ...,.,. 

But  whither  am  1  led?  this  artlefs  grief 
Hurries  the  mufe  on,  obftinate  and  deaf 
To  all  the  nicer  rules,  and  hearsher  down 
From  the  tall  fabric  to  the  neighbouring  ground: 
The  pleafing  hours,  the  happy  moments  paft 
In  thefe  fweet  fields  reviving  on  my  tafte 
Snatch  me  away  refiftlcfs  with  impetuous  hafte! 
Spread  thy  ftrong  pinions  once  again,  my  long, 
And  reach  the  turret  thou  hafi  left  ib  long  : 
O'er  the  wide  roof  its  lofty  head  it  rears, 
Long  waiting;  our  converfe;   but  only  hears 
The  noify  tumults  of  the  realms  on  high; 
The  winds  falute  it  whittling  as  they  fly,. 
Or  jarring  round  the  windows:  rattling  mowers 
Lam  the  fair  fides;  above  loud  thunder  roars; 
But  ftill  the  matter  fleeps;   nor  hears  the  voice 
Of  facred  friendfhip,  nor  the  tempeft's  noife  : 
An  iron  {lumber  fits  on  every  fei'.fe, 
In  vain  the  heavenly  thunders  drive  to  roufe  it  thence. 

One  labour  more,  my  mufe,  the  golden  fphere 
Seems  to  demand  :  fee  thro'  the  dufky  air 
Downward  it  fhinesupon  the  riling  moon; 
And.  as  fhe  labours  up  to  reach  her  neon, 
Purfues  her  orb  with  repeicuiiive  light, 

And 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead.  261 

And  ftreaming  gold  repays  the  paler  beams  of  night : 

But  not  one  ray  can  reach  the  darkfome  grave, 

Or  pierce  the  folid  gloom  that  lillsthe  cave 

Where  Gunstok  dwells  in  death.  Behold  it  flames 

Like  fome  new  meteor  with  diffufive  beams 

Thro'  the  mid-heaven,  and  overcomes  the  fiars; 

«4  So  fhines  thy  Gun  ston'siouI  above  the  fphears, 

"  Raphael  replies  and  wipes  away  my  tears. 

4<  We  faw  the  fiefh  fink  down  with  clofing  eyes, 

"  We  heard  thy  grief  lhriek  out,   Be  dies,  He  dies, 

"  Miftaken  grief!  to  call  the  fiefh  the  friend! 

<c  On  our  fair  wings  did  the  bright  youth  afcend, 

«'  All  heav'n  embrac'd  him  with  immortal  love, 

*'  And  fung  his  welcome  to  the  courts  above. 

"  Gentle  Ithuriel  led  him  round  the  fkies, 

"  The  buildings  ftruck  him  with  immenfe  rurprize; 

M  The  fpiresall  radiant,  and  the  manfions  bright,' 

"  The  roofs  high- vaulted  with  ethereal  light : 

**  Beauty  and  ftrength  on  the  tall  bulwarks  fat, 

™  In  heavenly  diamond;  and  for  every  gate 

*'  Qn  golden  hinges  a  broad. ruby  turns, 

•'  Guards  off  die  foe,  and  as  it  moves  it  burns; 

*'  Millions  of  glories  reigns  thro'  every  part; 

"  Infinite  power,  and  uncreated  art 

"  Stand  here  difplay'ds  and  to  the  Granger  fliow 

"  How  it  out  fhines  the  nobieit  feats  belov/. 

"  The  firanger  Had  his  gazing  pow'rs  awhile 

««  TraEfpcrted :  then,  with  a  regardlefs  fmile, 

"  Glanc'd  his  eye  downward  thro'  thecryftal  floor, 

"  And  took  eternal  leave  of  what  he  built  before. 

Now,  fair  Urania,  leave  the  doleful  {brain; 
Raphael  commands:  afiume  thy  joys  again. 
In  cverlafting  numbers  fing,  and  fay, 
'-<  GtJKSTGN  has  mpv'd  hi*  dwelling  to  the  realms 
"of  day;  GUNSTON 


262     LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  III. 

"  GUNSTON  the  friend  lives  ftiil;  and  give   thy 
*'  groans  away. 


An  Elegy  on  Mr.  T.  Gouge. 
To  Mr.  ARTHUR    SHALLET,  Merchant. 


Worthy  Sir, 
r~J~1H  E  fubjcSi  of  the  following  Hegy  was  high  in  your 
^"  efeem,  and  enjoyed  a  large  jbate  of  your  affeBiom. 
Scarce  doth  Lis  memory  need  the.  af fanes  of  the  :::  v/3  to 
maks  it  perpetual  •  but  ivhenfbe  can  at  once  pay  her  ho- 
nours to  the  venerable  dead,  and  by  this  addrefs  atknoio* 
ledge  the  favours fhe  has  received  ft  om  the  living,  ii  is  a 
double  pleafurc  to ,    S I R , 

Your  obliged  humble  fervant, 

I.    WATTS. 

To  the  Memory  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Thomas  Gouge, 

who  died  Jan.  8th,    16-1700. 

I. 

YE  virgin  fouls,  whofe  fv/eet  complaint  Pf  137. 
Could  teach  Euphrates  not  to  flow,  Lam.  i. 

Could  Sion's  ruin  fo  divinely  paint,  a.    3. 

Array'd  in  beauty  and  in  woe  : 
Awake  ye  virgin-fouls,  to  mourn, 
And  with  your  tuneful  forrowsdrefs  a  prophet's  urn. 
O  could  my  hps  or  flowing  eyes 
But  imitate  fuch  charming  e;iief, 
I'd  teach  the  feas,  and  teach  the  fkies 
Wailings,  and  fobs,  and  fynipathies, 
Nor  fhould  the  ftones  or  rocks  be  deaf; 

R.ocks  fhall  have  eyes,  and  (tones  have  ears, 
While  GOUGE's  death  is  mourn'd  in  melody  and 
tears. 

II 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead.         263 

m 

Heav'n  was  impatient  of  our  crimes, 
And  fent  his  minuter  cf  death 
To  fcourge  r.he  bold  rebellion  of  the  times, 
And  to  demand  our  prophet's  breath  • 
He  came  commiiTion'd  for  the  fates 
OfawfuiMEAD,  and  charming  BATES ; 
There  he  effay'd  the  vengeance  firft, 
Then  took  a  diimalaim,  and  brought  great  Gouge 

to  dud, 
Great  GOUGE  to  duft  I  how  doleful  is  the  found] 
Mow  vaft  the  ftroke  is,!  and  how  wide  the  wound ! 

Oh  painful  ftroke  !  diftreffing  death ! 
A  wound  unmeafurably  wide  : 
No  vulgar   mortal  dy'd 
When  he  refign'd  his  breath. 
The  mufe  that  mourns  a  nation's  fall, 
Should  wait  at  GOUGE's  funeral, 
Should  mingle  majefty  and  groans, 
Such  as  fhe  fmgs  to  finking  thrones, 

And  in  deep  founding  numbers  tell, 
How  Sion  trembled,  when  this  pillar  fell, 
Sion  grows  weak,  anrl  England  poor, 
Nature  herfelf,  with  all  her  ftore, 
Can  furnifh  fuch  a  pomp  for  death  no  more, 

IV. 
The  reverend  man  let  all  things  mourn  j 
Sure  he  was  fome  ./Ethereal  mind, 
Fated  in  flefh  to  be  confin'd, 
And  order'd  to  be  born, 
His  foul  was  of  th'  angelic  frame, 
The  fame  ingredients  and  the  mo  uld  the  fame, 
When  the  creator  makes  a  minifter  of  flame. 

He  was  all  form'd  of  heavenly  things, 
Mortals,  believe  what  my  Urania  fings} 

For 


a64     LYRIC  POEMS,    Book  III. 

For  (he  has  feen  hlra  rife  upon  his  flamy  wing*. 
V. 

How  would  he  mount,  how  would  he  fly 
Up  thro'  the  ocean  of  the  iky, 
Tow'rd  the  cceleftial  coafi  ! 
With  what  amazing  fwiftmfs  foar 
Till  earth's  dark  ball  was  feen  no  more, 
And  all  its  mountains  loft ! 
Scarce  could  the  mufepurfue  him  with  her  fight : 
But,  angels,  you  can  tell, 
For  oft  you  met  h^s  wondrous  flght, 

And  knew  the  ftranger  well ; 
Say,  how  he  pall  the  radiant  fpheres 
And  vifited  your  happy  feats, 
And  trac'd  the  well  known  turnings  of  the  golden 
ftreets, 
And  walk'd  among  the  ftars. 
VI. 
Tell  how  he  climb'd  the  everlafting  hills 

Surveying  all  the  realms  above, 
Borne  on  a  ftrong  wing'd  faith,  and  on  the  fiery 
wheels 
Of  an  immortal  love. 
'Twas  there  he  took  a  glorious  fight 
Of  the  inheritance  of  faints  in  light, 
And  read  tkeir  title  in  their  faviour's  right, 
How  oft  the  humble  fcholar  came, 
And  to  your  fongs  he  rais'd  his  ears 
To  learn  th'  unutterable  name, 
To  view  th'  eternal  bafe  that  bears 

The  new  creation's  frame. 
The  countenan  (  of  God  he  faw, 
Full  of  mercy  ,  fuli  of  awe, 
The  glories  of  his  power,  and  glories  of  his  grace  : 
There  he  beheld  the  wond'rous  fprings 

Of 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Dead,         b€^ 

Of  thofe  celeftial  facred  things, 
The  peaceful  gofpel,  and  the  fiery  law 

In  that  majeftic  face. 
That  face  did  ail  his  gazing  powers  employ,  : 
With  raoft  profound  abafement  and  exalted  joy, 
The  rolls  of  fate  were  half  unfeal'd5 

He  flood  adoring  by  ; 
The  volumes  open'd  to  his  eye, 
And  fweet  intelligence  he  held 
With  all  his  mining  kindred  of  the  Iky, 
VII. 
Ye  feraphs  that  furround  the  throne, 
Tell  how  his  name  was  thro'  the  palace  known, 
How  warm  his  zeal  was,  and  how  like  your  own  » 
Speak  it  aloud,  let  half  the  nation  hear, 

And  bold  blafphemers  fhrink  and  fear  :* 
Impudent  tongues,  to  blaft  a  prophet's  same ! 
The  poifon  fure  was  fetch'd  from  hell, 

Where  the  ©Id  blafphemers  dwell, 
To  taint  the  pureft  duft,  and  blot  the  whkefc  fame, 
Impudent  tongues  you  fhould  be  darted  thro', 
Nail'd  to  your  own  black  mouths,  and  Kg 
Ufelefs  and  dead  till  flander  die, 
Till  flander  die  with  you. 
VIIL 
il  Wefawhim,  fay  th'  ethereal  throng, 
""  We  faw  his  warm  devottons  rife, 
*'  We  heard  the  fervour  of  his  cries, 
•{  And  mix' d  his  praifes  with  our  fong  ; 
«•  We  knew  the  fecret  flights  of'  Ins  fetfi  ing  hours, 

"  Nightly  he  wak'd  his  inward  powers* 
*'  Young  Ifraelrofe  to  wfeftie  with  his  Gods 

Z  «  And 

*  T/jo*  he  was  fo  great  and  good  a  msn>  'fc  did  Mi  tj~a$$ 
sen/are. 


266     LYRIC  POEMS,     Book  HI. 

t  f*  And  with  unconquer'd  force  fcal'd  the  cekftial 
"  towers, 
"  To  reach  the  bleffing  down  for  thofe  that  fought 
"  his  blood. 

"  Oft  we  beheld  the  thunderer'shand 

"  Rais'd  high  to  crufh  the  factious  fee  ; 
"  As  oft  we  faw  the  rolling  vengeance  ftand 

"  Doubtful  t'obey  the  dread  command, 
«*  While  his  afcending  pray'r  upheld  the  falling  blow. 
IX. 

Draw  the  paf:  fcenes  of  thy  delight, 
My  mufe,  and  bring  the  wond'rous  man  to  fight. 

Place  him  furrounded  as  he  ftood 

With  pious  crowds,  while  from  his  tongue 
A  flream  of  harmony  ran  foft  along, 
And  every  ear  drank  in  the  flowing  good  ; 

Softly  it  ran  its  filver  way, 
Till  warm  devotion  rais'd  the  current  firong  : 
Then  fervid  zeal  on  the  fweet  deluge  rode, 

Life,  love  and  glory,  grace  and  joy, 
Divinely  roll'd  promifcuous  on  the  torrent- flood, 
And  bore  our  raptur'd  fenfe  away,  and  thoughts  and 
fouls  to  God. 

O  might  we  dwell  for  ever  there! 
No  more  return  to  breathe  thisgroffer  air, 
This  atmofphere  of  fin,  calamity  and  care. 

X. 
But  heavenly  fcenesfoon  leave  the  fight 

While  we  belong  to  clay, 
Paffions  of  terror  and  delight, 

Demand  alternate  fway. 

Behold  the  man,  whofe  awful  voice 

Could  well  proclaim  the  fiery  law, 

Kindle  the  flames  that  Mofes  faw, 

And  fwell  the  trumpet's  warlike  noife. 


To  the  Memory  of  the  Be  An.         267 

Keflands  the  heral d  of  the  threatiH&gfMes^ 
Lo,  on  His  reverend  brow  the  frowns  divinely  rife, 
All  Sinai's  thunder  on  his  tongue,  and  lightning  in 
his  eyes. 
Round  the  high  roof  the  curfesfiew 
.     Difdnguiihing  each  guilty  head, 
Far  from  th'  unequal  war  the  atheift  fled,. 
His  kindled  arrows  {till  purfue, 
His  arrows  llrike  the  atheift  thro', 
And  o'er  his  inmoft  powers  a  fhuddering  horror 

fpread, 
The  marble  heart  groans  with  an  inward  wound  j 

Blafpheruing  fouls  of  harden'd  fitel 
Shriek  out  amaz'd  at  the  new  pangs  they  feel, 
And  dread  the  echoes  of  the  found. 
The  lofty  wretch  arm'd  and  arry'd. 
In  gaudy  pride  links  down  his  impious  head, 
lounges  in  dark  defpair,  and  mingles  with  the  dead, 
XI. 
Now,  mufe,  affume  a  fofter  ftrain, 
Now  footh  the  finncr's  rav'm-r  f-iL 
Borrow  of  GOUGE  the  wond'rous  art     ' 
To  calm  the  furging  conference,  and  affwage  the 
pam;  _ 

He  from  a  bleeding  Gon  derives 
Life  for  the  fouls  that  guilt  had  flain, 
And  ftrait  the  dying  rebel  lives, 

The  dead  arife  again  ; 
The  opening  fkies  almoft  obey 
His  powerful  fong  ;   a  heavenly  ray 
Awakes  delpair  to  light,  and  fhedsa  chearful  day, 
His  wondrous  voice  rolls  back  the  fob  eres, 
Recalls  the  feenes  of  ancient  yezrs,  * 

To  make  the  Saviour  known  ; 
Sweetly  the  flying  charmer  roves 

Z  *  Thro' 


269  LYRIC    POEMS,    Book  111. 

Thro'  all  his  labours  and  his  loves, 
The  anguifh  of  his  crofs,  and  triumphs  of  his  throne. 
XII. 
Come  he  invites  our  feet  to  try 
The  fteep  afcent  of  Calvary, 
And  fets  the  fatal  tree  before  our  eye : 
See.  here  ceieftial  forrow  reigns  : 
Rude  nails  and  ragged  thorns  lay  by, 
Ting'd  with  the  crimfon  of  redeeming  veins. 
In  wond'rous  words  he  fung  the  vital  flood 
Where  all  our  fins  were  drown'd, 
Words  fit  to  heal  and  fit  to  wounds 
lharp  as  the  fpear,  and  balmy  as  the  blood. 
In  his  difcourfe  divine 
Afrefh  the  purple  fountain  flow'd ; 
Or  falling  tears  kept  fympathetic  time, 
And  trickled  to  the  ground, 
While  every  accent  gave  a  doleful  found, 
Sad  as  the  breaking  heart   firings  of  th'   expiring 
God. 

XUT. 
JJown  to  the  manfiom  or  the  dead, 
With  trembling  joy  our  fouls  are  ledj 
The  captives  of  his  tongue ; 
There  the  dear  prince  of  light  reclines  his  head 
Darknefs  and  fhades  among. 
With  pleafing  horror  we  furvey 

The  caverns  of  the  tomb, 
Where  the  belov'd  redeemer  lay, 

And  fhed  a  fweet  perfume. 
Hark,  the  old  earthquake  roars  again 
In  GOUGE's  voice,  and  breaks  the  chain 
Of  heavy  death,  and  rends  the  tombs; 
The  rifing  God  !  he  comes,  he  comes, 
With  throngs  of  waking  faints  along  triumphing  train 

XIV,  j 


To  tin  liimzry  of  the  Dead.  269 

XiV. 

See  the  bright  fquadrons  of  the  (ky, 
Downward  on  wings  of  joy  andhafhc  they  fly, 
Meet  their  returning fovereign,  and  attend  him  high. 

A  mining  car  the  conqueror  fills, 
Form'd  of  a  golden  cloud  ; 
Slowly  the  porno  moves  up  the  azure  hills,. 

Old  fatal!  foams  and  yells  aloud, 
Aud  gnaw.-  th'  eternal  brafs  that  binds   him   to  the 

wheels. 
The  opening  gates  of  blifs  receive  their  king, 

The  father-God  fmiles  on  his  fon, 
Pays  him  the  honours  he  has  won, 
The  lofty  thrones  adore,  and  little  cherubs  fing. 

Behold  him  on  his  native  throne,. 

Glory  fits  fail  upon  his  head; 
DrefsYiin  new  light,  and  beamy  robes, 
His  hand  rolls  on  the  feafons,  and  the  fhining  glcbes,v 
And  fways  the  living  worlds,  and  regions  of  the  dead. 

XV. 
GOUGE  was-his  envoy  to  the  realm  below 
Vau\  was  his  truit '■,  and  great  his  &ili, 

Bright  the  credentials  he  could  mow, 
And  thoufands  own'd  the  feal. 

His  hallowed  lips  could  well  impart 

The  grace,  the  promife,  and  command  % 
He  knew  the  pity  of  Immanuel's  heart, 
And  terrors  of  JEHOVAH's  hand, 

How  did  our  fouls  {tart  out  to  hear 

The  embafhes  of  love  he  bare, 

"While  every  ear  in  rapture  hung 
Upon  the  charming  wonders  of  his  tongue, 
Life's  bufy  cares  a  facred  filence  bound, 

Attention  ftood  with  all  her  powers, 

With,  fixe,-  eyes  and  awe  profound, 

Z-3.  e:.^v;d 


2-0     LYRIC    POEMS,    Hock  III 


Chain'd  to  the  pleasure  of  the  found 
Nor  knew  the  flying  hours. 
XVI. 

But  O  my  ever  lading  grief! 
Heaven  has  recall'd  his  envoy  from  oureyesj 

Hence  deluges  of  forrow  rife, 

Nor  hope  th'  impoffible  relief. 

Ye  remnants  of  the  facred  tribe 

Wh#  feci  the  lofs,  come  fhare  the  fmart,  . 
And  mix  your  groans  with  mine  : 

Where  is  the  tongue  that  can  defcribe. 

Infinite  things  with  equal  art, 
Or  language  fo  divine  ?  . 

Our  paffions  want  the  heavenly  flame, 
Almighty  love  breaths  faintly  in  our  fongs, 
And  awful  threatnings  languifh  on  our  tongues  ; 

HOWE  is  a  great  but  fingle  name  : 
Amidll  the  crowd  he  ftands  alone  ; 
Stands  yet,  but  with  his  fcarry  pinions  on, 
Dreft  for  the  flight,  and  ready  to  be  gone, 

Eternal  God,  command  his  flay, 

Stretch  the  dear  months  of  his  delay; 
O  we  could  wifh  his  age  were  one  immortal  day  ! 

But  when  the  flaming  chariot's  come, 
And  mining  guards,  t'  attend  thy  prophet  home, 

Amidft  a  thoufand  weeping  eyes, 
Send  an  Elifha  down,  a  foul  of  equal  fize, 
Or  burn  this  worthlefs  globe,  and  take  us  to  the  flcies» 


The  End  of  Mu  WATTS's  Z/nc  Poms. 


To  the  Memory  of  the  DjEad.  271 

A  Funeral  Fo'em  on  the  death  of  the  late  Reve- 
rend ISA  AC  WATTSVB.B.  Who  de- 
parted this  Life,  Nov.  25,  1748. 

Gura  pii  dis  funt,  et  qui  colucre  coluntur. 

.    OVJD, 

MO  UR:Ny  mourn,  Britannia,  mcurn  thy  paftor 
dead, 
Whofe  pious  foul  to  realms  of  blifs  is  fled  ; 
All,  all,  thy  great,  thy  virtuous  ions  deplore, 
For  WAT  iS,  thy  bard  divine,  is  now  no  more  : 
The  great  exemplar  of  morality, 
Cfer  fin  and  death  has  gain'd  the  victory; 
O  glorious  gain!   which  fhall  I  molt  admire. 
Thy  laving  doctrine,  or  poetic  fire  ? 
Of  humble  ltature,  but  exalted  mind, 
Of  tow'ring  genius,  vaft  and  unconfin'd,  . 
"Which  did  with  great  furprize  our  fouls  delight, 
As  fov'reign  beauty  captivates  the  fight. 
Interr'd  within  the  filent  grave  he  lies 
Mouldering  to  duft,  obfeur'd  from -human  eyes ; 
Bnt  tho'  his  body's  blended  with  the  duft, 
Waiting  the  refurrection  of  the  jufi ; 
His  fpotlefs  foul  of  pure  JEthereal  mould, 
(Scorning  by  matter  vile  to  be  controul'd) 
With  pinions  fledg'd  has  wing'd  her  fpeedy  flight,  ^ 
Beyond  the  dark  domain  of  ancient  night  :  £- 

To  the  eternal  manfions  of  delight :  3 

Replete  with  joys  too  great  to  be  defin'd,. 
Or  comprehended  by  a  finite  mind. 
And  he  who  late  attun'd  the  Britifh  lyre,  ~\ 

Which  men  and  angels  equally  admire,  f 

J^owchaunts  loud  hallelujahs  with  theheav'nly  \ 
choir ;  ~J 

He 


272     LYRIC    POEMS,     Book  III. 

He  nov/  inceffant  trains  feraphk  fings, 
To  rl-e  Lord  of  Lords,  and  King  of  kings  ; 
"  While  faints  and  angeh  ir.  full  confer;  join,. 
'    To  celebrate  the  hei^hth  of  love  divine.*' 
He's  fe.tted  on  a  bright  empyreal  throne, 
Crown' J  with  a  glorious  everlafting  crown, 
And  veiled  in  a  robe  of  righteoufnefs, 
The  faints  and  angels  pure  eeleftial  drefs  ; 
Lately  incrinifon'd  in  his  Saviour's  blood, 
Honours  on  ail  God's  favourites  beflow'd. 
He  nov.T  ccjoyj  his  true  and  only  t-nd, 
Having  his  God  and  Saviour  for  his  friend, 
Andfhall  enjoy  him  to  eternity;  \ 
O  blifsful  ft  ate  !  fupreme  felicity  ! 
He  hasreceiv'd  the  great  and  lure  reward, 
Referv'd  for  all  the  fervants  of  the  Lord  : 
Then  let  us  not  as  without  hope  complain, 
Since  tho'  the  lofs  is  curs,  bis  is  the  gain. 


F      I      N      I      S, 


A,  TABLE 


A       TABLE 

OF      THE 

POEMS 

Contained  in  the  FIRST    BOOK. 

WORSHIPPING  with  Fear,  Page  30 

Afeiflg  Leave  to  fmg,  3 1 

Divine  Judgments,  33 

Earth  and  Heaven,  35 

Felicity  above,  36 

God's  Dominion  and  Decrees,  3 7 

Self  Confecratien,  39 

The  Creator  and  Creatures,  40 

The  Nativity  of  Chrlji,  41 

God  glorious,  and  Sinners  faved,  4%^ 
The  humble  Enquiry.  A  French  Sonnet  imitated,  44 

The  Penitent  pardoned,  45 
A  Hymn  of  Praife  for  three  great  Salvations,       46 

The  Incomprehenfible,  49 

Death  and  Eternity,  50 

A  Sight  of  Heaven  in  Sicknefs,  51.. 

The  Univerfal  Hallelujah,  Pfal.  cxlviii.  53 

The  Atheift's  Miftake,  55. 

The  Law  given  at  Sinai,..  56 

Remember  your  Creator,  61 

Sun  Moon,  and  Stars,  praife  ye  the  Lord,  63 

The  welcome  Meflenger,  64 

Sincere  Praife,  6s 

True  Learning,  67 

True 


274  A      T    A    B     L     E. 

True  Wifdom,  69 

Song  to  Creating  Wifdom,  71 

Gw/'j-abfolute  Dominion,  74 

CondeLending  Grace,  76 

TSe  Infinite,  77 

GonfefTion  tnd  Pardon,  78 
Young  Men  and  ?v/Iaidens).&c.  praife  ye  the  Lordy.%t 

Flying  Fowl,  &c.  praife  yt*  the  Lord,  8z 

The  pothparifdh  and  Complaint,  83 

God  Fupteine  and  felf-fufficient,  85 

*fefai  the  only  Saviour,                                        .  86 

Looking  upward,  83 

Giurjl  dying,  riling ,  and  reigning,  89 

The  GWof  Thunder,  90 

The  Day  of  judgment,  in  Englifh  Sapphic  91 

The  Song  of  Angels  above,  91 

Fire,  Air,  Earth  and  Sea,  praife  yc  the  Lord,  95 

The  Farewel,  97 

God  only  known  to  himfelf,  98 

Pardon  and  Sanclif  cation,  99 

Sovereignty  and  Grace,  IOO 

The  Law  and  Gofpel,  101 
Seeking  a  Divine  Calm,  &c.  Cafimire,  E.  4, 

Od.  a8.  jox 

Happy  Frailty,  103 

Launching  into  Eternity,  105 

A  Profpecl:  of  the  Refurre<3iba,  106 
Breathing  towards  Heaven,  Cafimire,  E.  1.  Od. 

I9>  107 

Jn  SancTum  Ardalionem,  &c.  CaCm.  Epigr.  ico,  108 
On  the  Protefiant  Church  at  Mont[  elier  demol- 

ifhed,  two  Latin  Epigrams  englifhed,  139 

Two  h^ppy  Rivals,  pevotion  and  the  ftiufe,  jio 


On. 


A       TABLE.  275 

On  divine  Love, 

The  Hazard  of  Loving  the  Creatures,  114 

Defiring  to  love  ChriJ},  1 15 

The  Heart  given  away,  ll6 

Meditation  in  a  Grove,  II. 7 

The  Faireft  and  the  only  beloved,  I18 

Mutual  Love  ftronger  than  Death,  120 

A  Sight  of  Cbriji,  1 21 

Love  on  a  Crofs,  and  a  Throne,  124 
A  preparatory  Thought  for  the  Lord's  Supper,    125 

Converfe  with  Chrijl  126 

Grace  fhining,  and  Nature  fainting,  128 

Love  to  Chrijl  prefent  or  abicnt,  130 

The  abfence  of  Chri/i.,  13  4 

Defiring  his  Defcent.to  Earth,  132 

Afcendingto  him  in  Heaven,  133 
The  Prefence  of  Grd worth  dying  fori  Or,  the 

Death  of  Mofes,  134, 

LongTor  his  return,  136 

Hope  in  darknefs,  n,% 

Come,  Lord  Jefus,  I38 

Bewailing  my  own  Inconftancy,  I40 

Eorfaken,  yet  hoping,  14a 

The  Conclufion,  143 

Im  the  Sicond  Book. 

To  her  Majefty,  145 

J*alinodia,  I48 
To  John  Locke,  Lfq;  retired  from  Bufinefs,  149 
To  John  Shute,  Elq;  on  Mr.  Locke's  Sicknefs,  150 

To  Mr,  William  Nokes  :  friendship,  ib. 

To  Nathaniel  Gould,  Efq ;  151 

To  Dr.  Thomas  Gibfon  :  The  Life  of  Souls,  153 

3?alfe  Greatnefs,  *54 

To 


276  A      TABLE, 

To  Sariffa  :  An  Epiilk,  ijj 

7'o  Mr.  Thomas  Bradbury  :  Paradife,  ijt 

Strict  Religion  very  rare,  161 

To  Mr.  C.  and  S.  Fleetwood,  16 

To  William  Blackburn,  Efq.Cafim.B.  2.  Od.  2.  iC.t 

True  Monarchy,  i6„ 

True  Courage,  l6" 
To  the  much  honoured  Mr.  T  .  Rowe :  Free 

Phiiofophy,  168 
To  the  Reverend  Mr.  BenoniFvOwe  :  The  Way 

of  the  Multitude,  1 7° 

To  the  Reverend  Mr.  John  Howe,  1 7 1 

The  Difappointment  and  relief,  1 7  3 

The  Hero's  School  of  Mortality,  1 74 
Freedom,                                       ■ 
On  Mr.  Locke's  Annotations,  &c. 

True  Riches,  T79 
The  adventurous  Mufe, 

To  Mr.  N.  Clark :  The  Complaint,  183 

The  affliaions  of  a  Friend,  185 

Thereverfe  ;  or,  the  Comforts  of  a  Friend,  166 
To  the  Right  Honourable  John  Lord  Cuts:  The 

hardy  Soldier,  1 88 

Burning  feveral  Poems  of  Ovid,  Martial,  &c.  189 

To  Mrs.  B.  Bendyfh :  Againft  Tears,  190 

Few  happy  Matches,  *9  * 

To  David  Polhill,  Efq.  An  Epiftle,  193 
The  celebrated  Vidory  of  the  Poles,  SccCafi- 

mire  B.  4.  Od.  4,  I04 
To  Mr.  Henry  Bendyfh  :  The  Indian  Philofo 

pher,     '  201 
The  happy  Man,                                           _  ao4 
To  David  Polhill,  Efq;  An  Anfwertoan  in- 
famous Satire  againft  King  William,  207 

To 


A      T    A    B     L    E.  2?7 

To  the  Difappointed  and  Unquiet,  Caflm.  B.  4. 
f  Od.  15,  211 
!To  John  Hartopp,  Efq  ;  Cafim.  B.  I.  Od.  3,  213 
To  Thomas  Gunfton,  Efq;  Kappy  Solitude,  Ca- 
fim. B.  4  Od.  12.  2T5 
To  John  Hartopp,  Efq;  The  Difdain,  217 
To  Mitio,  my  Friend  :  The  Mourning-Piece,  ib+ 
The  fecond  Part :  or,  the  bright  Vifion,  223 
The  third  Part :  or,  the  accounts  balanced,  230 
On  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucefter,  &c.  2321 
An  Epigram,  ibm 
To  Mrs.  Singer  ;  on  the  Sight  of  fome  of  her 

Divine  Poems  unprinted,  233 

To  his  excellency  Jonathan  Belcher,  Efq^  234 

In  the  Third  Book* 

An  Epitaph  on  King  William,  &3.7 

An  Elegiac  Song  on  Mrs.  Peococfc,  23$ 

An  elegiac  Thought  on  Mrs.  Anne  Warner,,  24r 

On  the  Death  of  Mrs.  M.  W.  244 

A  Funral  Poem  on  Thomas  Gunfton,  Efq  %  247 

An  Elegy  on  the  Reverend  Mr.  Gouge,  263. 

A  Fungal  Poerfl  9B  the  death  pf  Mr,  Watty  2?i 


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